Punch: Punch (101.1891)

iv

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[December 26, 1891.

Falstaff. Sweet Prince, 1 kiss thy neif! Body o' me how are times changed, and Princes with the times, and
Prince's Companions with Princes. No marvel i' faith, that heirs-apparent are so improved, when such a Momus and Mentor
in one as Punch supersedeth such a Silenus-Mercury as poor old tun-bellied, pottle-pot-loving, though loyal, jocund and jape-
enjoying Jack Falstaff.'

Prince. Truly, Jack, we have, as it were, bought thine ancient desideratum, " a commo dity of good names."

Falstaff. Indeed, you come near to me now, Hal,—beshrew me, I should say Albert !—1 was, if a man should speak
truly, but little better than one of the wicked. A Lord of the Council of your day,—of the County Council to wit,—would
indeed rate me roundly, had he the chance, a McDougall having little more understanding of wild wit than a Shallow of
civic wisdom. Howbeit I can appreciate a Prince—a true Prince and a dutiful withal—who layeth foundation-stones in lieu
of plots with Poins, who openeth exhibitions instead of bottles. Yet would I fain bibe to thy Jubilee—together with that
of Mr. Punch which it so closely follows—in a cup of that same rememberable sack, my Prince !

Prince. Fifty years or so of ceremonials, Falstaff ! Trust me, I am sometimes exceedingly weatw, a little out of
love with my greatness, and inclined, amidst the sparkle of champagne and—and, loyal addresses, &c, to remember, like my
predecessor, the poor creature, small beer!

Falstaff. Why, that's my Prince! What say'st, Mr. Punch, smacks not that avowal of a larger humanity and, a
freer humour than courtiers and County Councillors can compass? Whence hath he it, this Horatian heartiness, this
Terentian catholicity ?

Punch. Partly from the kindly dower of Mother Nature, partly also from the humorous humanities of that same
Momus-Mentor of whom you spake erewhile, Sir John, though I say it who-

Prince. -Has the best right to. He hath a good wit, Sir John, not—as thou saidst of Poins's—as thick as

Tewksb^ry mustard. That's why the Prince doth love him so! That, Sirrah, is the humour the Prince is of !

Falstaff. Yerv singular good ! I would fain share his wit, his conceit, with thee, Prince, as Madcap Hal did mine

of old.

Punch. And shall, Sir John, an it please thee. I have devised matter enough out of this half-year's doings, to keep
Prince Hal—and thee—in continual laughter the wearing out of six passions, and ye shall laugh without intervallums. Oh,
you shall laugh till your face be like a wet cloak ill laid up !

Falstaff. Despatch then, I prithee, Punch, for, by this chill, cock-crow approacheth, and I must unwillingly hence,
from well-loved ancient haunt, and well-liked new company !

Punch. First then a Jubilee Health, and Long Life to our Visible Prince, to his Pearl of Princesses, to his happily-
recovered younger son, and—with three times three—to his newly-betrothed elder one, and his English Merry Mat ! ! !

Falstaff. " The heavens thee guard and keep, most Royal imp of fame ! God save thee, my sweet boy ! My king, my
love ! I drink to thee, my heart! "

Prince. Best thanks to ye both !

Punch. Secondly, Tobias mine, illustrate once again the Mysterious Magnetic Force of the Great Fleet Street
Magnate, the force that raises and cannot be resisted, the power that sways and is not swayed. Present, Toby, both to the
Prince and the Knight a copy of my

$u limkefr attir Jfintf §ak\m!!!