Bard. Well, my lord. He heard of your
Grace's coming to town: there's a letter for you.
Poins. Delivered with good respect. And how
doth the martlemas, your master? 112
Bard. In bodily health, sir.
Poins. Marry, the immortal part needs a
physician; but that moves not him: though
that be sick, it dies not. 116
Prince. I do allow this wen to be as familiar
with me as my dog; and he holds his place, for
look you how he writes.
Poins. [looking over the Prince's shoulder.] 120
'John Falstaff, knight,'—every man must know
that, as oft as he has occasion to name himself:
even like those that are kin to the king, for they
never prick their finger but they say, 'There's 124
some of the king's blood spilt.' 'How comes
that?' says he that takes upon him not to con-
ceive. The answer is as ready as a borrower's
cap, 'I am the king's poor cousin, sir.' 128
Prince. Nay, they will be kin to us, or they
will fetch it from Japhet. But to the letter:
'Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of the
king nearest his father, Harry Prince of 132
Wales, greeting.'
Poins. Why, this is a certificate.
Prince. Peace! 'I will imitate the honourable
Romans in brevity:' 136
Poins. He sure means brevity in breath, short-
winded.
Prince. 'I commend me to thee, I commend
112 martlemas; cf. n.
117 wen: swelling, i.e., Falstaff
126 takes upon him: pretends
conceive: understand
127, 128 borrower's cap; cf. n.
130 fetch it from Japhet: trace kinship through Japhet, the son of Noah
130 ff. Cf. n.
