2. Scene II. The same. An Apartment of Prince Henry's.
By the Lord, thou say'st true, lad. And is not my hostess of the
tavern a most sweet wench?
As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a
buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance?
How now, how now, mad wag! what, in thy quips and thy
quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin?
Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern?
Well, thou hast call'd her to a reckoning many a time and oft.
Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part?
No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there.
Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch;
and where it would not, I have used my credit.
Yea, and so used it, that, were it not here apparent that
thou art heir-apparent--But I pr'ythee, sweet wag, shall there be
gallows standing in England when thou art king? and
resolution thus fobb'd as it is with the rusty curb of old father
antic the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief.
No; thou shalt.
Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge.
Thou judgest false already: I mean, thou shalt have the
hanging of the thieves, and so become a rare hangman.
Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my humour;
as well as waiting in the Court, I can tell you.
For obtaining of suits?
Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman hath no
lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy as a gib-cat or a