murder, I warrant now.-Alas, alas! put up your naked weapons, put up your naked weapons. [Exeunt PISTOL and BARDOLPH. Dol. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal's Ah, you whoreson little valiant villain, you! gone. Host. Are you not hurt i' th' groin? methought 'a made a shrewd thrust at your belly. Enter BARDOLPH. Fal. Have you turn'd him out o' doors? Bard. Yes, sir. The rascal's drunk; you have hurt 210 him, sir, i' th' shoulder. Fal. A rascal! to brave me! Dol. Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor ape, how thou sweat'st! come, let me wipe thy face; -come on, you whoreson chops :-ah, rogue! i' faith, I love thee: thou art as valorous as Hector of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon, and ten times better than the Nine Worthies: ah, villain! Fal. A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a blanket. Dol. Do, an thou darest for thy heart: an thou dost, I'll canvass thee between a pair of sheets. Enter Musicians. Page. The music is come, sir. Fal. Let them play :-play, sirs.-Sit on my knee, Doll. [Music.] A rascal bragging slave ! the rogue fled from me like quicksilver. Dol. I'faith, and thou follow'dst him like a church. Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou leave fighting o' days and foining o' nights, and begin to patch up thine old body for heaven? Enter, behind, PRINCE HENRY and POINTZ disguised as Drawers. Fal. Peace, good Doll! do not speak like a death'shead; do not bid me remember mine end. 220 230 Dol. Sirrah, what humour's the prince of? Fal. A good shallow young fellow: 'a would have made a good pantler, 'a would ha' chipt bread well. Dol. They say Pointz has a good wit. Fal. He a good wit? hang him, baboon! his wit's as thick as Tewkesbury mustard; there's no more conceit in him than is in a mallet. Dol. Why does the prince love him so, then? 240 Fal. Because their legs are both of a bigness; and 'a plays at quoits well; and eats conger and fennel; and drinks off candles' ends for flap-dragons; and rides the wild-mare with the boys; and jumps upon jointstools; and swears with a good grace; and wears his boots very smooth, like unto the sign of the leg; and breeds no bate with telling of discreet stories; and such other gambol faculties 'a has, that show a weak mind and an able body, for the which the prince admits him: for the prince himself is such another; the weight 250 of a hair will turn the scales between their avoirdupois. P. Hen. Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off? Poin. Let's beat him before his whore. P. Hen. Look, whether the wither'd elder hath not his poll claw'd like a parrot. Poin. Is it not strange that desire should so many years outlive performance? Fal. Kiss me, Doll. P. Hen. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! 260 what says the almanac to that? Poin. And, look, whether the fiery Trigon, his man, be not lisping to his master's own tables, his note-book, his counsel-keeper. Fal. Thou dost give me flattering busses. Dol. By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant heart. Fal. I am old, I am old. Dol. I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy young boy of them all. 270 Fal. What stuff wilt have a kirtle of? I shall receive money o' Thursday: shalt have a cap to-morrow. A merry song, come: it grows late; we'll to bed. Thou'lt forget me when I am gone. Dol. By my troth, thou'lt set me a-weeping, an thou say'st so prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return:-well, hearken the end. Fal. Some sack, Francis. P. Hen. Poin. } Anon, anon, sir. [Advancing. Fal. Ha! a bastard son of the king's?—And art not 280 thou Pointz his brother? P. Hen. Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a life dost thou lead! Fal. A better than thou: I am a gentleman; thou art a drawer. P. Hen. Very true, sir; and I come to draw you out by the ears. come. Host. O, the Lord preserve thy good Grace! by my troth, welcome to London. Now, the Lord bless that sweet face of thine! O Jesu, are you come from Wales? 290 Fal. Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty,by this light flesh and corrupt blood, thou art wel[Leaning his hand upon DoL. Dol. How, you fat fool! I scorn you. Poin. My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge, and turn all to a merriment, if you take not the heat. P. Hen. You whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did you speak of me even now before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman! Host. God's blessing of your good heart! and so she is, by my troth. Fal. Didst thou hear me? P. Hen. Yea; and you knew me, as you did when you ran away by Gadshill: you knew I was at your back, and spoke it on purpose to try my patience. Fal. No, no, no; not so; I did not think thou wast within hearing. 300 P. Hen. I shall drive you, then, to confess the wilful abuse; and then I know how to handle you. Fal. No abuse, Hal, o' mine honour; no abuse. P. Hen. Not,—to dispraise me, and call me pantler, and bread-chipper, and I know not what! Fal. No abuse, Hal! Poin. No abuse! 310 Fal. No abuse, Ned, i' th' world; honest Ned, none. I dispraised him before the wicked, that the wicked. might not fall in love with him;—in which doing, I have done the part of a careful friend and a true subject, and thy father is to give me thanks for it. No abuse, Hal;-none, Ned, none;-no, faith, boys, none. 320 P. Hen. See now, whether pure fear and entire cowardice doth not make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to close with us. Is she of the wicked? is thine hostess here of the wicked? or is thy boy of the wicked? or honest Bardolph, whose zeal burns in his nose, of the wicked? Poin. Answer, thou dead elm, answer. Fal. The fiend hath prickt down Bardolph irrecoverable; and his face is Lucifer's privy-kitchen, where he doth nothing but roast malt-worms. For the boy, 330 there is a good angel about him; but the devil outbids him too. P. Hen. For the women? Fal. For one of them,—she is in hell already, and burns, poor soul! For the other, I owe her money; and whether she be damn'd for that, I know not. Host. No, I warrant you. Fal. No, I think thou art not; I think thou art quit for that. Marry, there is another indictment upon thee, for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house, con- 340 trary to the law; for the which I think thou wilt howl. Host. All victuallers do so: what's a joint of mutton or two in a whole Lent? P. Hen. You, gentlewoman,― Dol. What says your Grace? Fal. His grace says that which his flesh rebels against. [Knocking within. Host. Who knocks so loud at door?-Look to the door there, Francis. Enter PETO. P. Hen. Peto, how now! what news? P. Hen. By heaven, Pointz, I feel me much to blame, So idly to profane the precious time; When tempest of commotion, like the south, 350 Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt, And drop upon our bare unarmed heads. Give me my sword and cloak.-Falstaff, good night. [Exeunt PRINCE Henry, Pointz, Peto, and BARDOLPH. Fal. Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and we must hence, and leave it unpickt. within.] More knocking at the door! Enter BARDOLPH. How now! what's the matter? [Knocking Bard. You must away to court, sir, presently; A dozen captains stay at door for you. 360 Fal. [to the Page] Pay the musicians, sirrah.-Farewell, hostess;-farewell, Doll.-You see, my good wenches, how men of merit are sought after: the un- 370 deserver may sleep, when the man of action is call'd on. Farewell, good wenches: if I be not sent away post, I will see you again ere I go. |