Mr. Poins.--Down fell their hose.
Sir John Falstaff.--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.
The Prince of Wales--O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two!
Sir John Falstaff.--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.
The Prince of Wales.--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 villainous, obscene, greasy tallow-keech,--
Sir John Falstaff.--What! art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth,
the truth?
The Prince of Wales.--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?
Mr. Poins.--Come, your reason, Jack, your reason.
Sir John Falstaff.--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!
The Prince of Wales.--I’ll be no longer guilty of this sin; this
sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horse-back-breaker, this huge
hill of flesh.
Sir John Falstaff.--Away, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried neat’s
tongue, you stock-fish,--O, for breath to utter what is like thee!--you
tailor’s yard, you sheath, you bow-case, you vile standing tuck;--
The Prince of Wales.--Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again: and
when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, hear me speak but
this.
Mr. Poins.--Mark, Jack.
The Prince or Wales.--We two saw you four set on four; you bound them,
and were masters of their wealth.--Mark now, how plain a 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 as
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
starting-hole, canst thou now find out, to hide thee from this open and
apparent shame?
Mr. Poins.--Come, let’s hear, Jack; What trick hast thou now?
Sir John Falstaff.--By the Lord, I knew ye, as well as he that made
ye. Why, hear ye, 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 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, 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?
The Prince of Wales.--Content;--and the argument shall be thy running
away.
Sir John Falstaff.--Ah! no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me.
Now, reader, do you know the opinion I have formed, after a careful
study of the above historic dialogue? Perhaps you will not guess, as it
is widely remote from the common one. It is, that Sir John Falstaff did
know it was the Prince. I don’t mean to say in the heat of battle, when
the outside of the knight’s head monopolised all his attention; but I
believe, on after reflection, by calmly putting that and that together,
he would have more than a shrewd guess at the character of his
assailants. Why, then, all the lies and subterfuges? Why the hacking of
the Falstaffian sword with the Falstaffian dagger? Why the tickling
of the noses with spear grass to draw blood? and the subsequent
“beslubbering” of their garments therewith, under pretence of its being
the blood of true men (a stratagem somewhat unworthily betrayed by
Lieutenant Bardolph)? Wherefore all these devices, with the certainty of
detection?
The answer is very simple.
It was Sir John Falstaff’s object to make the Prince of Wales _believe
himself a much cleverer fellow than he really was_; and I maintain that
he succeeded most triumphantly in the present instance.
Well, the money was safe. The Prince was satisfied--Falstaff perfectly
contented. Credit was unlimited--sack abundant. Nothing remained but to
make a night of it. A night was accordingly manufactured; the principal
ingredient in its composition being the first specimen of a now popular
class of entertainment on record,--namely, an amateur play, in which Sir
John Falstaff, with much dignity, sustained the character of King Henry
the Fourth, the Prince of Wales being represented (on that occasion, and
by particular desire), by His Royal Highness in person. The two leading
comedians subsequently exchanged parts. The performance was received
with thunders of applause by a select, if unfashionable, audience.
For the libretto of this highly successful production, the reader is
referred to the collected works of the able dramatist who has already
met with such frequent and encouraging notice in these pages.
[Illustration: 117]