The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (moboreader .TXT) 📕

BARDOLPH. Pray thee go down, good ancient.

FALSTAFF. Hark thee hither, Mistress Doll.

PISTOL. Not I! I tell thee what, Corporal Bardolph, I could tear her; I’ll be reveng’d of her.

PAGE. Pray thee go down.

PISTOL. I’ll see her damn’d first; to Pluto’s damn’d lake, by this hand, to th’ infernal deep, with Erebus and tortures vile also.

Hold hook and line, say I. Down, down, dogs! down, faitors! Have we not Hiren here?

HOSTESS. Good Captain Peesel, be quiet; ‘tis very late, i’ faith; I beseek you now, aggravate your choler.

PISTOL. These be good humours, indeed! Shall packhorses, And hollow pamper’d jades of Asia,

Which cannot go but thirty mile a day, Compare with Caesars, and with Cannibals, And Troiant Greeks? Nay, rather damn them with King Cerberus; and let the welkin roar.

Shall we fall foul for toys?

HOSTESS. By my troth, Captain, these are very bitter words.

BARDOLPH. Be gone, good ancient; this will grow to a brawl anon.

PISTOL. Die men like dogs! Give crowns like pins! Have we not Hiren here?

HOSTESS. O’ my word, Captain, there’s none such here. What the goodyear! do you think I would deny her? For God’s sake, be quiet.

PISTOL. Then feed and be fat, my fair Calipolis.

Come, give’s some sack.

‘Si fortune me tormente sperato me contento.’

Fear we broadsides? No, let the fiend give fire.

Give me some sack; and, sweetheart, lie thou there.

[Laying down his sword]

Come we to full points here, and are etceteras nothings?

FALSTAFF. Pistol, I would be quiet.

PISTOL. Sweet knight, I kiss thy neaf. What! we have seen the seven stars.

DOLL. For God’s sake thrust him down stairs; I cannot endure such a fustian rascal.

PISTOL. Thrust him down stairs! Know we not Galloway nags?

FALSTAFF. Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove-groat shilling.

Nay, an ‘a do nothing but speak nothing, ‘a shall be nothing here.

BARDOLPH. Come, get you down stairs.

PISTOL. What! shall we have incision? Shall we imbrue?

[Snatching up his sword]

Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days!

Why, then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds Untwine the Sisters Three! Come, Atropos, I say!

HOSTESS. Here’s goodly stuff toward!

FALSTAFF. Give me my rapier, boy.

DOLL. I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not draw.

FALSTAFF. Get you down stairs.

[Drawing and driving PISTOL out]

HOSTESS. Here’s a goodly tumult! I’ll forswear keeping house afore I’ll be in these tirrits and frights. So; murder, I warrant now.

Alas, alas! put up your naked weapons, put up your naked weapons.

Exeunt PISTOL and BARDOLPH

DOLL. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal’s gone. Ah, you whoreson little valiant villain, you!

HOSTESS. Are you not hurt i’ th’ groin? Methought ‘a made a shrewd thrust at your belly.

Re-enter BARDOLPH

FALSTAFF. Have you turn’d him out a doors?

BARDOLPH. Yea, sir. The rascal’s drunk. You have hurt him, sir, i’

th’ shoulder.

FALSTAFF. A rascal! to brave me!

DOLL. 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!

FALSTAFF. A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a blanket.

DOLL. Do, an thou dar’st for thy heart. An thou dost, I’ll canvass thee between a pair of sheets.

Enter musicians PAGE. The music is come, sir.

FALSTAFF. Let them play. Play, sirs. Sit on my knee, Don. A rascal bragging slave! The rogue fled from me like quicksilver.

DOLL. I’ faith, and thou follow’dst him like a church. Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou leave fighting a days and foining a nights, and begin to patch up thine old body for heaven?

Enter, behind, PRINCE HENRY and POINS disguised as drawers FALSTAFF. Peace, good Doll! Do not speak like a death’s-head; do not bid me remember mine end.

DOLL. Sirrah, what humour’s the Prince of?

FALSTAFF. A good shallow young fellow. ‘A would have made a good pantler; ‘a would ha’ chipp’d bread well.

DOLL. They say Poins has a good wit.

FALSTAFF. He a good wit! hang him, baboon! His wit’s as thick as Tewksbury mustard; there’s no more conceit in him than is in a mallet.

DOLL. Why does the Prince love him so, then?

FALSTAFF. 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 join’dstools, 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 of a hair will turn the scales between their avoirdupois.

PRINCE. Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off?

POINS. Let’s beat him before his whore.

PRINCE. Look whe’er the wither’d elder hath not his poll claw’d like a parrot.

POINS. Is it not strange that desire should so many years outlive performance?

FALSTAFF. Kiss me, Doll.

PRINCE. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! What says th’

almanac to that?

POINS. And look whether the fiery Trigon, his man, be not lisping to his master’s old tables, his notebook, his counsel-keeper.

FALSTAFF. Thou dost give me flattering busses.

DOLL. By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant heart.

FALSTAFF. I am old, I am old.

DOLL. I love thee better than I love e’er a scurvy young boy of them all.

FALSTAFF. What stuff wilt have a kirtle of? I shall receive money a Thursday. Shalt have a cap tomorrow. A merry song, come. ‘A grows late; we’ll to bed. Thou’t forget me when I am gone.

DOLL. By my troth, thou’t set me a-weeping, an thou say’st so.

Prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return. Well, hearken a’ th’ end.

FALSTAFF. Some sack, Francis.

PRINCE & POINS. Anon, anon, sir. [Advancing]

FALSTAFF. Ha! a bastard son of the King’s? And art thou not Poins his brother?

PRINCE. Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a life dost thou lead!

FALSTAFF. A better than thou. I am a gentleman: thou art a drawer.

PRINCE. Very true, sir, and I come to draw you out by the ears.

HOSTESS. O, the Lord preserve thy Grace! By my troth, welcome to London. Now the Lord bless that sweet face of thine. O Jesu, are you come from Wales?

FALSTAFF. Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty, by this light flesh and corrupt blood, thou art welcome.

[Leaning his band upon DOLL]

DOLL. How, you fat fool! I scorn you.

POINS. My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge and turn all to a merriment, if you take not the heat.

PRINCE. YOU whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did you speak of me even now before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman!

HOSTESS. God’s blessing of your good heart! and so she is, by my troth.

FALSTAFF. Didst thou hear me?

PRINCE. 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.

FALSTAFF. No, no, no; not so; I did not think thou wast within hearing.

PRINCE. I shall drive you then to confess the wilful abuse, and then I know how to handle you.

FALSTAFF. No abuse, Hal, o’ mine honour; no abuse.

PRINCE. Not-to dispraise me, and call me pander, and bread-chipper, and I know not what!

FALSTAFF. No abuse, Hal.

POINS. No abuse!

FALSTAFF. No abuse, Ned, i’ th’ world; honest Ned, none. I disprais’d him before the wicked-that the wicked might not fall in love with thee; 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.

PRINCE. 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?

POINS. Answer, thou dead elm, answer.

FALSTAFF. The fiend hath prick’d down Bardolph irrecoverable; and his face is Lucifer’s privy-kitchen, where he doth nothing but roast maltworms. For the boy-there is a good angel about him; but the devil outbids him too.

PRINCE. For the women?

FALSTAFF. For one of them-she’s in hell already, and burns poor souls. For th’ other-I owe her money; and whether she be damn’d for that, I know not.

HOSTESS. No, I warrant you.

FALSTAFF. 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, contrary to the law; for the which I think thou wilt howl.

HOSTESS. All vict’lers do so. What’s a joint of mutton or two in a whole Lent?

PRINCE. You, gentlewoman—

DOLL. What says your Grace?

FALSTAFF. His Grace says that which his flesh rebels against.

[Knocking within]

HOSTESS. Who knocks so loud at door? Look to th’ door there, Francis.

Enter PETO

PRINCE. Peto, how now! What news?

PETO. The King your father is at Westminster; And there are twenty weak and wearied posts Come from the north; and as I came along I met and overtook a dozen captains,

Bareheaded, sweating, knocking at the taverns, And asking every one for Sir John Falstaff.

PRINCE. By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame So idly to profane the precious time, When tempest of commotion, like the south, 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, POINS, PETO, and BARDOLPH

FALSTAFF. Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and we must hence, and leave it unpick’d. [Knocking within] More knocking at the door!

Re-enter BARDOLPH

How now! What’s the matter?

BARDOLPH. You must away to court, sir, presently; A dozen captains stay at door for you.

FALSTAFF. [To the PAGE]. Pay the musicians, sirrah.- Farewell, hostess; farewell, Doll. You see, my good wenches, how men of merit are sought after; the undeserver 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.

DOLL. I cannot speak. If my heart be not ready to burst!

Well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself.

FALSTAFF. Farewell, farewell.

Exeunt FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH

HOSTESS. Well, fare thee well. I have known thee these twenty-nine years, come peascod-time; but an honester and truer-hearted man -well fare thee well.

BARDOLPH. [ Within] Mistress Tearsheet!

HOSTESS. What’s the matter?

BARDOLPH. [ Within] Bid Mistress Tearsheet come to my master.

HOSTESS. O, run Doll, run, run, good Come. [To BARDOLPH] She comes blubber’d.- Yea, will you come, Doll? Exeunt

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