FALSTAFF.
Thou hast the most unsavoury similes, and art indeed the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young prince. But, Hal, I prithee trouble me no more with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew where a commodity of good names were to be bought. An old lord of the Council rated me the other day in the street about you, sir, but I marked him not, and yet he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not, and yet he talked wisely, and in the street too.
PRINCE.
Thou didst well, for wisdom cries out in the streets and no man regards it.
FALSTAFF.
O, thou hast damnable iteration, and art indeed able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon me, Hal, God forgive thee for it. Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing, and now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it over. By the Lord, an I do not, I am a villain. I’ll be damned for never a king’s son in Christendom.
PRINCE.
Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack?
FALSTAFF.
Zounds, where thou wilt, lad, I’ll make one. An I do not, call me villain and baffle me.
PRINCE.
I see a good amendment of life in thee, from praying to purse-taking.
FALSTAFF.
Why, Hal, ’tis my vocation, Hal, ’tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation.
Enter Poins.
Poins!—Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the most omnipotent villain that ever cried “Stand!” to a true man.
PRINCE.
Good morrow, Ned.