Hal, if thou see me down in the battle
Hal, if thou see me down in the battle and
bestride me, so; ’tis a point of friendship.
Nothing but a colossus can do thee that friendship.
Say thy prayers, and farewell.
I would ’twere bedtime, Hal, and all well.
What is honor? A word. What is in that word “honor”?
What is that “honor”? Air. A trim reckoning.
Why, thou owest God a death. He exits.
‘Tis not due yet. I would be loath to pay Him
before His day. What need I be so forward with
Him that calls not on me? Well, ’tis no matter.
Honor pricks me on. Yea, but how if honor prick me
off when I come on? How then? Can honor set to a
leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a
wound? No. Honor hath no skill in surgery, then?
No. What is honor? A word. What is in that word
“honor”? What is that “honor”? Air. A trim reckoning.
Who hath it? He that died o’ Wednesday. Doth
he feel it? No. Doth he hear it? No. ‘Tis insensible,
then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the
living? No.Rogatio Why? Detraction will not suffer it. Therefore,
I’ll none of it. Honor is a mere scutcheon. And
so ends my catechism.