No More Learning

Soft! who are you?
Sir Walter Blunt. There's honour for you! Here's no vanity! I am
as hot as molten lead, and as heavy too. God keep lead out of me!
I need no more weight than mine own bowels. I have led my
rag-of-muffins where they are pepper'd. There's not three of my
hundred and fifty left alive; and they are for the town's end, to
beg during life. But who comes here?

Enter the Prince.

Prince. What, stand'st thou idle here? Lend me thy sword.
Many a nobleman lies stark and stiff
Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies,
Whose deaths are yet unreveng'd. I prithee
Rend me thy sword.
Fal. O Hal, I prithee give me leave to breathe awhile. Turk Gregory
never did such deeds in arms as I have done this day. I have paid
Percy; I have made him sure.
Prince. He is indeed, and living to kill thee.
I prithee lend me thy sword.
Fal. Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou get'st not my
sword; but take my pistol, if thou wilt.
Prince. Give it me. What, is it in the case?
Fal. Ay, Hal.