Where hast been, Hal?

Poins
Where hast been, Hal?
Prince Hal
With three or four loggerheads amongst three
or fourscore hogsheads. I have sounded the very
bass string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother
to a leash of drawers, and can call them all by their
Christian names, as Tom, Dick, and Francis.

To conclude, I am so good a proficient in
one quarter of an hour that I can drink with
any tinker in his own language during my life.

They take it already upon their salvation that though I
be but Prince of Wales, yet I am the king of courtesy,
and tell me flatly I am no proud jack, like Falstaff,
but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy—by
the Lord, so they call me—and when I am king of
England, I shall command all the good lads in
Eastcheap. They call drinking deep “dyeing scarlet,”
and when you breathe in your watering, they
cry “Hem!” and bid you “Play it off!” To conclude, I
am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour
that I can drink with any tinker in his own language
during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost much
honor that thou wert not with me in this action; but,
sweet Ned—to sweeten which name of Ned, I give
thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped even now
into my hand by an underskinker, one that never
spake other English in his life than “Eight shillings
and sixpence,” and “You are welcome,” with this
shrill addition, “Anon, anon, sir.—Score a pint of
bastard in the Half-moon,” or so. But, Ned, to
drive away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee, do
thou stand in some by-room while I question my
puny drawer to what end he gave me the sugar, and
do thou never leave calling “Francis,” that his tale
to me may be nothing but “Anon.” Step aside, and
I’ll show thee a precedent.
 Poins exits.