(The one with the wound-fingering. )
But thou dost in thy passages of life
Make me believe that thou art only marked
For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven
To punish my mistreadings.
The king is sick, and the prince is his cure.
Italian fashions have come to Eastcheap.
The prince must put away childish things. Ned knows he's one of them.
Too late for Christmas, too early for the new year. (Or, Hal makes himself inconvenient in as many ways as possible.)
"I suppose it's safe to assume you aren't here to ransom me."
Poins kills a man; the rest doesn't matter, and the prince must carry on.
Ned and Hal meet again after a battle, in another London street.
Claudius picks just about the worst possible time to ship his nephew off to England. Hal benefits from the diversion.