Sirra, you giant, what saies the Doct[or]. to my water?

He said sir, the water it selfe was a good healthy water: but for the party that ow'd it, he might have more diseases then he knew for

Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at mee: the braine of this foolish compounded Clay-man, is not able to invent any thing that tends to laughter, more then I invent, or is invented on me. I am not onely witty in my selfe, but the cause that wit is in other men. I doe heere walke before thee, like a Sow, that hath o'rewhelm'd all her Litter, but one. If the Prince put thee into my Service for any other reason, then to set mee off, why then I have no judgement. Thou horson Mandrake, thou art fitter to be worne in my cap, then to wait at my heeles. I was never mann'd with an Agot till now: but I will sette you neyther in Gold, nor Silver, but in vilde apparell, and send you backe againe to your Master, for a Jewell. The Iuuenall (the Prince your Master) whose Chin is not yet fledg'd, I will sooner have a beard grow in the Palme of my hand, then he shall get one on his cheeke: yet he will not sticke to say, his Face is a Face-Royall. Heaven may finish it when he will, it is not a haire amisse yet: he may keepe it still at a Face-Royall, for a Barber shall never earne six pence out of it; and yet he will be crowing, as if he had writ man ever since his Father was a Batchellour. He may keepe his owne Grace, but he is almost out of mine, I can assure him. What said M[aster]. Dombledon, about the Satten for my short Cloake, and Slops?

He said sir, you should procure him better Assurance, then Bardolfe: he wold not take his Bond & yours, he lik'd not the Security

Let him bee damn'd like the Glutton, may his Tongue be hotter, a horson Achitophel; a Rascally-yea-forsooth-knave, to beare a Gentleman in hand, and then stand upon Security? The horson smooth-pates doe now weare nothing but high shoes, and bunches of Keyes at their girdles: and if a man is through with them in honest Taking-up, then they must stand upon Securitie: I had as liefe they would put Rats-bane in my mouth, as offer to stoppe it with Security. I look'd hee should have sent me two and twenty yards of Satten (as I am true Knight) and he sends me Security. Well, he may sleep in Security, for he hath the horne of Abundance: and the lightnesse of his Wife shines through it, and yet cannot he see, though he have his owne Lanthorne to light him. Where's Bardolfe?

He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship a horse

I bought him in Paules, and hee'l buy mee a horse in Smithfield. If I could get mee a wife in the Stewes, I were Mann'd, Hors'd, and Wiv'd. Enter Chiefe Justice, and Servant.

Sir, heere comes the Nobleman that committed the Prince for striking him, about Bardolfe.

Wait close, I will not see him

What's he that goes there?

Falstaffe, and't please your Lordship

He that was in question for the Robbery?

He my Lord, but he hath since done good service at Shrewsbury: and (as I heare) is now going with some Charge, to the Lord John of Lancaster

What to Yorke? Call him backe againe

Sir John Falstaffe

Boy, tell him, I am deafe

You must speake lowder, my Master is deafe

I am sure he is, to the hearing of any thing good. Go plucke him by the Elbow, I must speake with him

Sir John

What? a yong knave and beg? Is there not wars? Is there not imployment? Doth not the K[ing]. lack subjects? Do not the Rebels want Soldiers? Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it is worse shame to begge, then to be on the worst side, were it worse then the name of Rebellion can tell how to make it

You mistake me Sir

Why sir? Did I say you were an honest man? Setting my Knight-hood, and my Souldiership aside, I had lyed in my throat, if I had said so

I pray you (Sir) then set your Knighthood and your Souldier-ship aside, and give mee leave to tell you, you lye in your throat, if you say I am any other then an honest man

I give thee leave to tell me so? I lay a-side that which growes to me? If thou get'st any leave of me, hang me: if thou tak'st leave, thou wer't better be hang'd: you Hunt-counter, hence: Auant

Sir, my Lord would speake with you

Sir John Falstaffe, a word with you

My good Lord: give your Lordship good time of the day. I am glad to see your Lordship abroad: I heard say your Lordship was sicke. I hope your Lordship goes abroad by advise. Your Lordship (though not clean past your youth) hath yet some smack of age in you: some rellish of the saltnesse of Time, and I most humbly beseech your Lordship, to have a reverend care of your health.

Sir John, I sent you before your Expedition, to Shrewsburie

If it please your Lordship, I heare his Majestie is return'd with some discomfort from Wales

I talke not of his Majesty: you would not come when I sent for you?

And I heare moreover, his Highnesse is falne into this same whorson Apoplexie.

Well, heaven mend him. I pray let me speak with you

This Apoplexie is (as I take it) a kind of Lethargie, a sleeping of the blood, a horson Tingling

What tell you me of it? be it as it is

It hath it originall from much greefe; from study and perturbation of the braine. I have read the cause of his effects in Galen. It is a kinde of deafenesse

I thinke you are falne into the disease: For you heare not what I say to you

Very well (my Lord) very well: rather an't please you) it is the disease of not Listning, the malady of not Marking, that I am troubled withall

To punish you by the heeles, would amend the attention of your eares, & I care not if I be your Physitian

I am as poore as Job, my Lord; but not so Patient: your Lordship may minister the Potion of imprisonment to me, in respect of Povertie: but how I should bee your Patient, to follow your prescriptions, the wise may make some dram of a scruple, or indeede, a scruple it selfe

I sent for you (when there were matters against you for your life) to come speake with me

As I was then advised by my learned Councel, in the lawes of this Land-service, I did not come

Wel, the truth is (sir John) you live in great infamy Fal. He that buckles him in my belt, ca[n]not live in lesse

Your Meanes is very slender, and your wast great

I would it were otherwise: I would my Meanes were greater, and my waste slenderer

You have misled the youthfull Prince

The yong Prince hath misled mee. I am the Fellow with the great belly, and he my Dogge

Well, I am loth to gall a new-heal'd wound: your daies service at Shrewsbury, hath a little gilded over your Nights exploit on Gads-hill. You may thanke the unquiet time, for your quiet o're-posting that Action

My Lord?

But since all is wel, keep it so: wake not a sleeping Wolfe

To wake a Wolfe, is as bad as to smell a Fox

What? you are as a candle, the better part burnt out

A Wassell-Candle, my Lord; all Tallow: if I did say of wax, my growth would approve the truth.

here is not a white haire on your face, but shold have his effect of gravity

His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy

You follow the yong Prince up and downe, like his evill Angell

Not so (my Lord) your ill Angell is light: but I hope, he that lookes upon mee, will take mee without, weighing: and yet, in some respects I grant, I cannot go: I cannot tell. Vertue is of so little regard in these Costormongers, that true valor is turn'd Beare-heard. Pregnancie is made a Tapster, and hath his quicke wit wasted in giving Recknings: all the other gifts appertinent to man (as the malice of this Age shapes them) are not woorth a Gooseberry. You that are old, consider not the capacities of us that are yong: you measure the heat of our Livers, with the bitternes of your gals: & we that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confesse, are wagges too

Do you set downe your name in the scrowle of youth, that are written downe old, with all the Charracters of age? Have you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a yellow cheeke? a white beard? a decreasing leg? an incresing belly? Is not your voice broken? your winde short? your wit single? and every part about you blasted with Antiquity? and wil you cal your selfe yong? Fy, fy, fy, sir John

My Lord, I was borne with a white head, & somthing a round belly. For my voice, I have lost it with hallowing and singing of Anthemes. To approve my youth farther, I will not: the truth is, I am onely olde in judgement and understanding: and he that will caper with mee for a thousand Markes, let him lend me the mony, & have at him. For the boxe of th' eare that the Prince gave you, he gave it like a rude Prince, and you tooke it like a sensible Lord. I have checkt him for it, and the yong Lion repents: Marry not in ashes and sacke-cloath, but in new Silke, and old Sacke

Wel, heaven send the Prince a better companion

Heaven send the Companion a better Prince: I cannot rid my hands of him

Well, the King hath sever'd you and Prince Harry, I heare you are going with Lord John of Lancaster, against the Archbishop, and the Earle of Northumberland

Yes, I thanke your pretty sweet wit for it: but looke you pray, (all you that kisse my Ladie Peace, at home) that our Armies joyn not in a hot day: for if I take but two shirts out with me, and I meane not to sweat extraordinarily: if it bee a hot day, if I brandish any thing but my Bottle, would I might never spit white againe: There is not a daungerous Action can peepe out his head, but I am thrust upon it. Well, I cannot last ever.

Well, be honest, be honest, and heaven blesse your Expedition

Will your Lordship lend mee a thousand pound, to furnish me forth?

Not a peny, not a peny: you are too impatient to beare crosses. Fare you well. Commend mee to my Cosin Westmerland.

If I do, fillop me with a three-man-Beetle. A man can no more separate Age and Covetousnesse, then he can part yong limbes and letchery: but the Gowt galles the one, and the pox pinches the other; and so both the Degrees prevent my curses. Boy?

Sir

What money is in my purse?

Seven groats, and two pence

I can get no remedy against this Consumption of the purse. Borrowing onely lingers, and lingers it out, but the disease is incureable. Go beare this letter to my Lord of Lancaster, this to the Prince, this to the Earle of Westmerland, and this to old Mistris Ursula, whome I have weekly sworne to marry, since I perceiv'd the first white haire on my chin. About it: you know where to finde me. A pox of this Gowt, or a Gowt of this Poxe: for the one or th' other playes the rogue with my great toe: It is no matter, if I do halt, I have the warres for my colour, and my Pension shall seeme the more reasonable. A good wit will make use of any thing: I will turne diseases to commodity.