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The Boar's Head Tavern at Eastcheap.

Prince Henry and Poins. Enter Falstaff, Gadshill, Bardolph, and Peto; Francis following with wine.

Poins: Welcome, Jack: where hast thou been?

Fal.: A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too! marry, and amen! Give me a cup of sack, boy. Ere I lead this life long, I'll sew nether-stocks 8) and mend them and foot them too. A plague of all cowards! Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there no virtue extant?

[He drinks.

Prince: Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter (pitiful-hearted Titan), that melted at the sweet tale of the sun? if thou didst, then behold that compound.

Fal.: You rogue, here's lime in this sack too: there is nothing but roguery to be found in villainous man: yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack with lime in it. A villainous coward! Go thy ways, old Jack; die when thou wilt; if manhood, good manhood, be not forgotten upon the face of the earth, then am I a shotten 9) herring. There live not three good men unhanged in England; and one of them is fat, and grows old: God help the while! a bad world, I say. I would I were a weaver; I could sing psalms or any thing. A plague of all cowards, I say still. Prince: How now, wool-sack! what mutter you?

Fal.: A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy subjects afore thee like a flock of wild-geese, I'll never wear hair on my face more. You Prince of Wales!

Prince: Why, you wicked round man, what's the matter?

Fal.: Are not you a coward? answer me to that: and Poins there? Poins: 'Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, by the Lord, I'll stab thee.

Fal.: I call thee coward! I'll see thee damned ere I call thee coward: but I would give a thousand pound I could run as fast as thou canst. You are straight enough in the shoulders, you care not who sees your back: call you that backing of your friends? A plague upon such backing! give me them that will face me. Give me a cup of sack: I am a rogue, if I drunk to-day.

Prince: O villain! thy lips are scarce wiped since thou drunkest last.
Fal.: All's one for that. [He drinks.] A plague of all cowards, still say I.
Prince: What's the matter?

Fal.: What's the matter! there be four of us here have ta'en a thousand pound this day morning.

Prince: Where is it, Jack? where is it?

Fal.: Where is it! taken from us it is: a hundred upon poor four of us. Prince: What, a hundred, man?

Fal.: I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword 10) with a dozen of them

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two hours together. I have 'scaped by miracle. I am eight times thrust through the doublet, four through the hose; my buckler cut through and through; my sword hacked like a hand-saw-ecce signum! I never dealt better since I was a man: all would not do. A plague of all cowards! Let them speak: if they speak more or less than truth, they are villains and the sons of darkness.

Prince: Speak, sirs; how was it?

Gads.: We four set upon some dozen-
Fal.: Sixteen at least, my lord.

Gads. And bound them.

Peto.: No, no, they were not bound.

Fal.: You rogue, they were bound, every man of them; or I am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew.

Gads.: As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us— Fal.: And unbound the rest, and then come in the other.

Prince: What, fought you with them all?

Fal.: All! I know not what you call all; but if I fought not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish: if there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old Jack, then am I no two-legged creature.

Prince: Pray God you have not murdered some of them.

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

Prince: What, four? thou saidst but two even now.

Fal.: Four, Hal; I told thee four.

Poins: Ay, ay, he said four.

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Fal.: These four came all a-front, and mainly thrust at me. I made me 11)

no more ado but took all their seven points in my target, thus.

Prince: Seven, why, there were but four even now.

Fal.: In buckram?

Poins: Ay, four, in buckram suits.

Fal.: Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else.

Prince: Prithee, let him alone; we shall have more anon.

Fal.: Dost thou hear me, Hal?

Prince: 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

Prince: So, two more already.

Fal.: Their points being broken

Poins: Down fell their hose.

Fal.: 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.

11) pleonastic dative.

Mack-Walker, Engl. Lesebuch f. d. Oberklassen. Heft 5

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Prince: 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.

Prince: These lies are like their father that begets them; gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou clay-brained guts, thou knottypated fool, thou obscene, greasy tallow-ketch

Fal.: What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth the truth? Prince: 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 sayest thou to this?

Poins: Come, your reason, Jack, your reason.

Fal.: What, upon compulsion? 'Zounds, an I were 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 plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I.

Prince: I'll be no longer guilty of this sin; this sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horse-kack-breaker, this huge hill of fleshFal.: Sblood, you starveling 12), you elf-skin, you dried neat's 13) tongue... you stock-fish! O for breath to utter what is like thee! your tailor's-yard, you sheath, you bow-case

Prince: Well, breathe a while, and then to it again: and when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, hear me speak but this.

Poins: Mark, Jack.

Prince: We two saw you four set on four and 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-faced you from your prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here in the house: and, Falstaff, you carried your guts away as nimbly, with a quick dexterity, and roared for mercy, and still ran and roared, as ever I heard 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 startinghole, canst thou now find out to hide thee from this open and apparent shame ?

Poins: Come, let's hear, Jack; what trick hast thou now?

Fal.: By the Lord, I knew ye as well as he that made ye. Why, hear you, my masters: 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 now a coward on instinct. I shall think the better of myself and thee during my life; I for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince. But, by the Lord, lads, I am glad you have the money. Hostess, clap to the doors: watch to-night, pray to-morrow. Gallants,

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lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles of good fellowship come to you! What, shall we be merry? shall we have a play extempore? Prince: Content; and the argument shall be thy running away. Fal.: Ah, no more of that, Hal, and thou lovest me!

(King Henry IV, Ist Part, Act II, 4)

Joseph Addison.

(1672-1719)

Sir Roger de Coverley's Sunday.

A considerable time after the Glorious Revolution of 1688, the censure of literature was abolished. Then, with Addison's and Steele's news papers "the Tatler" and "the Spectator" (1709-1712), English journalism sprang up, at once setting an example of good periodical literature to the whole of Europe. In a series of real English types, united in the "Spectator Club" the two Essayists present to their contemporaries models of sound literature, good society and genuine English tradition, The favourite Club character is the honest old country gentleman Sir Roger de Coverley, (Another type is Sir Andrew Freeport; see chapter IV = Heft 4).

I am always very well pleased with a country Sunday, and think, if keeping holy the seventh day were only a human institution, it would be the best method that could have been thought of for the polishing and civilizing of mankind. It is certain the country people would soon degenerate into a kind of savages and barbarians, were there not such frequent returns of a stated time in which the whole village meet together with their best faces and in their cleanliest habits to converse with one another upon indifferent subjects, hear their duties explained to them, and join together in adoration of the supreme Being. Sunday clears away the rust of the whole week, not only as it refreshes in their minds the notions of religion, but as it puts both the sexes upon appearing in their most agreeable forms and exerting all such qualities as are apt to give them a figure in the eye of the village. A country fellow distinguishes himself as much in the churchyard as a citizen does upon the Change, the whole parish politics being generally discussed in that place either after sermon or before the bell rings.

My friend Sir Roger, being a good churchman, has beautified the inside of his church with several texts of his own choosing; he has likewise given a handsome pulpit-cloth, and railed in the communion table at his own expense. He has often told me that at his coming to his estate he found his parishioners very irregular; and that in order to make

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them kneel and join in the responses he gave every one of them a hassock1) and a common-prayer book: and at the same time employed an itinerant singing-master, who goes about the country for that purpose, to instruct them rightly in the tunes of the psalms, upon which they now very much value themselves, and indeed outdo most of the country churches that I have ever heard.

As Sir Roger is landlord to the whole congregation, he keeps them in very good order, and will suffer nobody to sleep in it besides himself; for if by chance he has been surprised into a short nap at sermon, upon recovering out of it he stands up and looks about him, and if he sees anybody else nodding either wakes them himself or sends his servants to them. Several other of the old knight's particularities break out upon these occasions: sometimes he will be lengthening out a verse in the singing-psalms half a minute after the rest of the congregation have done with it: sometimes, when he is pleased with the matter of his devotion, he pronounces Amen three or four times to the same prayer; and sometimes stands up when everybody else is upon their knees, to count the congregation or see if any of his tenants are missing.

I was yesterday very much surprised to hear my old friend, in the midst of the service, calling out to one John Matthews to mind what he was about and not disturb the congregation. This John Matthews it seems is remarkable for being an idle fellow, and at that time was kicking his heels for his diversion. This authority of the knight, though exerted in that odd manner which accompanies him in all circumstances of life, has a very good effect upon the parish, who are not polite2) enough to see anything ridiculous in his behaviour; besides that the general good sense and worthiness of his character makes his friends observe these little singularities as foils that rather set off than blemish his good qualities.

As soon as the sermon is finished nobody presumes to stir till Sir Roger is gone out of the church. The knight walks down from his seat in the chancel between a double row of his tenants, that stand bowing to him on each side: and every now and then inquires how such an one's wife, or mother, or son, or father do, whom he does not see at church, which is understood as a secret reprimand to the person that is absent.

The chaplain has often told me that upon a catechizing day, when Sir Roger has been pleased with a boy that answers well, he has ordered a Bible to be given him next day for is encouragement; and sometimes accompanies it with a flitch of bacon to his mother. Sir Roger has

I) a thick mat for kneeling on. 2) Not used in the modern sense!

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