SCENE III. Eastcheap. The Boar's-Head Tavern. Enter FALSTaff and BarDOLPH. Fal. Bardolph, am I not fallen away vilely since this last action? do I not bate? do I not dwindle? Why, my skin hangs about me like an old lady's loose gown; I am withered like an old apple-john. Well, I'll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in some liking; I shall be out of heart shortly, and then I shall have no strength to repent. An I have not forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I am a peppercorn, a brewer's horse: the inside of a church! Com- 10 pany, villanous company, hath been the spoil of me. Bard. Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long. Fal. Why, there is it: come sing me a bawdy song; make me merry. I was as virtuously given as a gentleman need to be; virtuous enough; swore little; diced not above seven times a week; went to a bawdy-house not above once in a quarter of an hour; paid money that I bor- 20 rowed, three or four times; lived well and in good compass and now I live out of all order, out of all compass. Bard. Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that 5. apple-john, an apple which ripened at Midsummer, kept well, but shrivelled when 'old.' 5. suddenly, promptly. 6. in some liking, in tolerable condition. 9. I am a peppercorn, etc. 'Falstaff compares himself to what he is most unlike, a peppercorn for size, and a brewer's horse for wit' (Wright). you must needs be out of all compass, out of all reasonable compass, Sir John. : Fal. Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life thou art our admiral, thou bearest the lantern in the poop, but 'tis in the nose of thee; thou art the Knight of the Burning Lamp. Bard. Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm. 30 Fal. No, I'll be sworn; I make as good use of it as many a man doth of a Death's-head or a memento mori: I never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire and Dives that lived in purple ; for there he is in his robes, burning, burning. If thou wert any way given to virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oath should be 'By this fire, that's God's angel:' but thou art altogether given 40 over; and wert indeed, but for the light in thy face, the son of utter darkness. When thou rannest up Gadshill in the night to catch my horse, if I did not think thou hadst been an ignis fatuus or a ball of wildfire, there's no purchase in money. O, thou art a perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light! Thou hast saved me a thousand marks in links and torches, walking with thee in the night betwixt tavern and tavern but the sack that thou hast drunk me would have bought me lights as good cheap at the dearest chandler's in Europe. I have maintained that salamander of yours with fire any time this two and thirty years; God reward me for it! Bard. 'Sblood, I would my face were in your belly! 28. admiral, admiral's ship (which as such bore a light in the poop to guide the other ships of the fleet). 51. as good cheap, as cheap. 50 Fal. God-a-mercy! so should I be sure to be heart-burned. + Enter HOSTESS. How now, Dame Partlet the hen! have you inquired yet who picked my pocket? Host. Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John? do you think I keep thieves in my house? I have searched, I have inquired, so has my husband, man by man, boy by boy, servant by servant: the tithe of a hair was never lost in my house before. Fal. Ye lie, hostess: Bardolph was shaved and lost many a hair; and I'll be sworn my pocket was picked. Go to, you are a woman, go. Host. Who, I? no; I defy thee: God's light, I was never called so in mine own house before. Fal. Go to, I know you well enough. Host. No, Sir John; you do not know me, Sir John. I know you, Sir John: you owe me money, Sir John; and now you pick a quarrel to beguile me of it: I bought you a dozen of shirts to your back. 60 70 Fal. Dowlas, filthy dowlas: I have given them away to bakers' wives, and they have made 80 bolters of them. Host. Now, as I am a true woman, holland of eight shillings an ell. You owe money here besides, Sir John, for your diet and by-drinkings, and money lent you, four and twenty pound. Fal. He had his part of it; let him pay. Host. He? alas, he is poor; he hath nothing. Fal. How! poor? look upon his face; what call you rich? let them coin his nose, let them coin his cheeks: I'll not pay a denier. What, will you make a younker of me? shall I not take mine ease in mine inn but I shall have my pocket picked? I have lost a seal-ring of my grandfather's worth forty mark. Host. O Jesu, I have heard the prince tell him, I know not how oft, that that ring was copper! 90 Fal. How the prince is a Jack, a sneak-cup: 'sblood, an he were here, I would cudgel him 100 like a dog, if he would say so. Enter the PRINCE and PETO, marching, and FALSTAFF meets them playing on his truncheon like a fife. How now, lad! is the wind in that door, i' faith? Bard. Yea, two and two, Newgate fashion. Prince. What sayest thou, Mistress Quickly? How doth thy husband? I love him well; he is an honest man. Host. Good my lord, hear me. Fal. Prithee, let her alone, and list to me. Fal. The other night I fell asleep here behind the arras and had my pocket picked: this house is turned bawdy-house; they pick pockets. Prince. What didst thou lose, Jack? 92. younker, a raw, inexperienced youth, with plenty of means. Ff Qq' younger.' 92. shall I not take mine ease in mine inn; a proverbial say 110 ing, found already in Heywood's Epigrammes upon Proverbes, 1562. 99. sneak-cup, one who avoids drinking his share. Fal. Wilt thou believe me, Hal? three or four bonds of forty pound a-piece, and a seal-ring of my grandfather's. Prince. A trifle, some eight-penny matter. Host. So I told him, my lord; and I said 120 I heard your grace say so: and, my lord, he speaks most vilely of you, like a foul-mouthed man as he is; and said he would cudgel you. Prince. What! he did not? Host. There's neither faith, truth, nor womanhood in me else. Fal. There's no more faith in thee than in a stewed prune; nor no more truth in thee than in a drawn fox; and for womanhood, Maid Marian may be the deputy's wife of the ward to thee. 130 Go, you thing, go. Host. Say, what thing? what thing? Fal. What thing! why, a thing to thank God on. Host. I am no thing to thank God on, I would thou shouldst know it; I am an honest man's wife and, setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a knave to call me so. Fal. Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say otherwise. Host. Say, what beast, thou knave, thou? Prince. An otter, Sir John! why an otter? 129. a drawn fox, a fox drawn from his cover, and so forced to exert all his cunning to escape. 129. Maid Marian, the 'companion of Robin Hood' in the popular Morris-dance, a char 140 acter often personated by a man. 130. deputy's wife of the ward to thee, i.e. compared to thee. The 'deputy of the ward' exercised police authority within it; and was hence a citizen of standing and respectability. |