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Fal. Nay, that's past praying for. I have pepper'd two of them; two, I am sure, I have paid; two rogues in buckram suits. I tell you what, Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me a horse. Thou knowest my old ward: here I lay and thus I bore my point; four rogues in buckram let drive at me.

P. Henry. What, four! thou saidst but two even


Fal. Four, Hal, I told thee four.-These four came all a front, and made a thrust at me: I made no more ado, but took all their seven points, in my target, thus.

P. Henry. Seven! why they were but four, even


Fal. In buckram?

P. Henry. Ay, four, in buckram suits:

Fal. Seven by these hilts, or I am a villain else. Dost thou hear me, Hal!

P. Henry. Ay, and mark thee too, Jack.

Fal. Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These nine in buckram, that I told thee of

P. Henry. So, two more already.

Fal. Their points being broken, began to give me ground; but I followed me close, came in foot and hand, and with a thought-seven of the eleven I paid.

P. Henry. O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two.

Fal. But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten knaves, in Kendal green, came at my back, and let drive at me; (for it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst not see thy hand.)

P. Henry. These lies are like the father that

begets them, gross as a mountain, open, palpable, Why, thou clay-brained guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou obscene greasy tallow-catch—

Fal. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth the truth?

P. Henry. Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal green, when it was so dark thou couldst not see thy hand? Come, tell us your reason: what say'st thou to this? Come, your reason, Jack, your reason.

Fal. What upon compulsion!-No: were I at the strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would not tell you on compulsion! Give you a reason on compulsion! If reasons were as plenty as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion.

P. Henry. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin. This sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker, this huge hill of flesh

Fal. Away, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dry'd neat's tongue, you stock-fish! O, for breath to utter! what is like thee? you taylor's yard, you sheath, you bowcase, you vile standing tuck

P. Henry. Well, breathe awhile, and then to't again; and when thou hast tir'd thyself in base comparisons, hear me speak but this :-Poins and I saw you four set on four: you bound them, and were masters of their wealth: mark now, how a plain tale shall put you down. Then did we two set on you four, and with a word out-fac'd you from your prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here in the house. And, Falstaff, you carry'd your guts away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roar'd for mercy, and still ran and

roar'd, as ever I heard a bull-calf.

What a slave

art thou, to hack thy sword as thou hast done, and then say it was in fight! What trick, what device, what starting-hole canst thou now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent shame ?

Fal. Ha! ha! ha!-Do'ye think I did not know you! By the Lord, I knew you as well as he that made you. Why, hear ye me master, was it for me to kill the heir apparent? should I turn upon the true prince? why, thou knowest I am as valiant as Hercules; but beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true prince; instinct is a great matter. I was a coward on instinct; I grant you: and I shall think the better of myself and thee during my life; I for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince. But I am glad you have the money. Let us clap to the doors; watch to-night, pray What, shall we be merry? shall we


have a play extempore?

P. Henry. Content!—and the argument shall be, thy running away.

Fal. Ah!-no more of that, Hal, if thou lovest






Iago. WHAT! are you hurt, lieutenant?
Cas. Past all surgery.

Iago. Marry, Heav'n forbid !


Cas. Reputation, reputation, reputation! Oh I

have lost my reputation! I have lost the immortal

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part of myself, and what remains is bestial. My reputation! Iago, my reputation

Iago. As I am an honest man, I thought yon had received some bodily wound: there is more sense in that, than in reputation. Reputation is an idle and most false imposition: oft got without merit, and lost without deserving. What man!-there are ways to recover the general again. Sue to him, and he's your's.

Cas. I will rather sue to be despis'd.—Drunk! and squabble! swagger! swear! and discourse fustian with one's own shadow! Oh thou invincible spirit of wine! if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee Devil.

Iago. What was he that you followed with your sword? what had he done to you?

Cas. I know not.

Iago. Is't possible?

Cas. I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. Oh, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains; that we should with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, transform ourselves into beasts!

Iago. Why, but you are now well enough: how came you thus recovered?

Cas. It has pleased the devil, Drunkenness, to give place to the devil, Wrath; one unperfectedness shows me another, to make me frankly despise myself.


Iago. Come, you are too severe a moraler. the time, the place, and the condition of this country stands, I could heartily wish this had not

befallen; but since it is as it is, mend it for your own good.

Cas. I will ask him for my place again—he shall tell me I am a drunkard!--Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast!--Every inordinate cup is unbless'd, and the ingredient is a devil.

Iago. Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be well us'd; exclaim no more against it. And good lieutenant, I think, you think, I love you.

Cas. I have well approv'd it, sir.—I drunk!

Iago. You, or any man living, may be drunk at some time, man. I tell you what you shall do. Our general's wife is now the general. Confess yourself freely to her; importune her help, to put you in your place again. She is of so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition, she holds it a vice in her goodness not to do more than she is requested. This broken joint between you and her husband, entreat her to splinter; and, my fortunes, against any lay worth naming, this crack of your love shall grow stronger than it was before.

Cas. You advise me well.

Iago. I protest, in the sincerity of love and honest


Cas. I think it freely; and, betimes in the morning, I will beseech the virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me.

Jago. You are in the right. Good night, lieutenant: I must to the watch.

Cas. Good night, honest Iago.


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