Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water?

He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy water, 279but for the party that owed it, he might have more diseases than 280he knew for.

Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: the brain 282of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not able to invent anything 283that intends to laughter, more then I invent, or is invented 284on me. I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is 285in other men. I do here walk before thee like a sow that hath 286overwhelmed all her litter but one. If the prince put thee into my 287service for any other reason than to set me off, why then I 289have no judgement. Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to 290be worn in my cap, than to wait at my heels. I was never 291manned with an agate till now, but I will inset you neither in gold 292nor silver, but in vile apparel, and send you back again to 293your master for a jewel -- the juvenal the prince your master, 294whose chin is not yet fledge. I will sooner have a beard grow 295in the palm of my hand, than he shall get one off his cheek, and 296yet he will not stick to say his face is a face royal. God may 298finish it when he will, 'tis not a hair amiss yet. He may keep it 299still at a face royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence out 300of it; and yet he'll be crowing as if he had writ man ever 301since his father was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, 302but he's almost out of mine, I can assure him. What said master 303Dommelton about the satin for my short cloak and my 304slops?

He said, sir, you should procure him better assurance 306than Bardolph. He would not take his bond and yours; he liked 307not the security.

Let him be damned like the glutton! Pray god his 309tongue be hotter! A whoreson Achitophel, a rascal, yea forsooth, 310knave: to bear a gentleman in hand, and then stand upon 311security? The whoreson smoothy-pates do now wear nothing but 312high shoes and bunches of keys at their girdles, and if a man is 313through with them in honest taking up, then they must stand 314upon security. I had as lief they would put ratsbane in my 315mouth as offer to stop it with security. I looked 'a should have 317sent me two and twenty yards of satin, as I am a true knight, 318and he sends me "security." Well, he may sleep in security, for he 319hath the horn of abundance, and the lightness of his wife 320shines through it and yet cannot he see, though 321he have his own lantern to light him. Where's Bardolph?

He's gone in Smithfield to buy your worship a horse.

I bought him in Pauls, and he'll buy me a horse 326in Smithfield. An I could get me but a wife in the stews, I 327were manned, horsed, and wived.

Sir, here comes the noble man that committed the prince 330for striking him about Bardolph.

Wait close, I will not see him.

[To the Servant] What's he that goes there?

Falstaff, an't please your lordship.

He that was in question for the robbery?

He, my lord, but he hath since done good service at 336Shrewsbury, and, as I hear, is now going with some charge to 337the Lord John of Lancaster.

What, to York? Call him back again.

Sir John Falstaff!

Boy, tell him I am deaf.

[To the Servant] You must speak louder, my master is deaf.

I am sure he is to the hearing of anything good. Go 343pluck him by the elbow, I must speak with him.

Sir John!

What? A young knave and begging? Is there not wars? 346Is there not employment? Doth not the king lack subjects? Do 347not the rebels need soldiers? Though it be a shame to be on any 348side but one, it is worse shame to beg than to be on the worst 349side, were it worse than the name of rebellion can tell how to 350make it.

You mistake me sir.

Why sir? Did I say you were an honest man? Setting my 353knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had lied in my throat 354if I had said so.

I pray you, Sir, then set your knighthood and your 356soldiership aside, and give me leave to tell you, you lie in your 357throat if you say I am any other than an honest man.

I give thee leave to tell me so? I lay aside that which 360grows to me? If thou get'st any leave of me, hang me. If thou 361tak'st leave, thou wert better be hanged, you hunt-counter. Hence, 362avaunt!

Sir, my lord would speak with you.

Sir John Falstaff, a word with you.

My good lord, god give your lordship good time 366of day, I am glad to see your lordship abroad. I heard say your 367lordship was sick, I hope your lordship goes abroad by 368advice. Your lordship, though not clean past your youth, have yet 369some smack of an ague in you, some relish of the saltness of time in you, and I most humbly beseech your lordship to have a 371reverent care of your health.

Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition to 373Shrewsbury.

An't please your lordship, I hear his majesty is 375returned with some discomfort from Wales.

I talk not of his majesty. You would not come when I 377sent for you.

And I hear moreover, his highness is fallen into this 379same whoreson apoplexy.

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

This apoplexy, as I take it, is a kind of lethargy, an't 382please your lordship, a kind of sleeping in the blood, a whoreson tingling.

What tell you me of it? Be it as it is.

It hath it original from much grief, from study, and 385perturbation of the brain. I have read the cause of his effects 386in Galen, it is a kind of deafness.

I think you are fallen into the disease, for you hear not 388what I say to you.

Very well my lord, very well. Rather, an't please you, it is 390the disease of not listening, the malady of not marking, that I 391am troubled withal.

To punish you by the heels would amend the attention393 of your ears, and I care not if I do become your physician.

I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so patient. 395Your lordship may minister the potion of imprisonment to 396me, in respect of poverty, but how I should be your patient to 397follow your prescriptions, the wise may make some dram of 398a scruple, or indeed a scruple itself.

I sent for you when there were matters against you for 400your life to come speak with me.

As I was then advised by my learned counsel in the 402laws of this land-service, I did not come.

Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in great infamy.

He that buckles himself in my belt cannot live in less.

Your means are very slender, and your waste is great.

I would it were otherwise, I would my means were 407greater and my waist slender.

You have misled the youthful prince.

The young prince hath misled me, I am the fellow with 410the great belly, and he my dog.

Well, I am loath to gall a new-healed wound. Your day's 412service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded over your night's 413exploit on Gad's Hill. You may thank th'unquiet time for your 414quiet o'erposting that action.

My lord?

But since all is well, keep it so. Wake not a sleeping wolf.

To wake a wolf is as bad as smell a fox.

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

A wassail candle my lord, all tallow; if I did say of wax, 420my growth would approve the truth.

There is not a white hair in your face, but should 422have his effect of gravity.

His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy.

You follow the young prince up and down, like his 425ill angel.

Not so my lord. Your ill angel is light, but I hope he 427that looks upon me will take me without weighing, and yet 428in some respects I grant I cannot go. I cannot tell: virtue is of 429so little regard in these costermongers' times, that true valor 430is turned bearherd, pregnancy is made a tapster, and his quick wit 431wasted in giving reckonings. All the other gifts appertinent 432to man, as the malice of this age shapes them, are not worth a 433gooseberry. You that are old consider not the capacities of us that 435are young. You do measure the heat of our livers with the 436bitterness of your galls; and we that are in the vanguard of our 437youth, I must confess, are wags too.

Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, 439that are written down old with all the characters of age? Have 440you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, 441a decreasing leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken, 442your wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and 443every part about you blasted with antiquity, and will you yet 444call your self young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John.

My lord, I was born about three of the clock in the afternoon, with a white head and something a round 446belly; for my voice, I have lost it with hallooing and singing of 447anthems. To approve my youth further, I will not. The truth 448is, I am only old in judgement and understanding; and he 449that will caper with me for a thousand marks, let him lend me 450the money, and have at him! For the box of the ear that the 451prince gave you, he gave it like a rude prince, and you took 452it like a sensible lord. I have checked him for it, and the young 453lion repents -- marry, not in ashes and sackcloth, but in new silk, 455and old sack.

Well, god send the prince a better companion.

God send the companion a better prince -- I cannot 458rid my hands of him.

Well, the king hath severed you. I hear you are 460going with Lord John of Lancaster, against the Archbishop and 461the Earl of Northumberland.

Yea, I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But look 463you pray, all you that kiss my lady peace at home, that our 464armies join not in a hot day, for, by the lord, I take but two 465shirts out with me, and I mean not to sweat extraordinarily. 466If it be a hot day and I brandish anything but a bottle, I would 467I might never spit white again. There is not a dangerous action 468can peep out his head but I am thrust upon it. Well, I cannot 469last ever, but it was always yet the trick of our English nation, 469.1if they have a good thing, to make it too common. If ye will 469.2needs say I am an old man, you should give me rest. I would 469.3to god my name were not so terrible to the enemy as it is. I 469.4were better to be eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured 469.5to nothing with perpetual motion.

Well, be honest, be honest, and god bless your 471expedition.

Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound to 473furnish me forth?

Not a penny, not a penny, you are too impatient to 475bear crosses. Fare you well. Commend me to my cousin 476Westmorland.

If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. A man can 478no more separate age and covetousness than 'a can part young 479limbs and lechery; but the gout galls the one, and the pox 480pinches 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 486purse. Borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, but the 487disease is incurable. [Giving letters.] Go, bear this letter to my lord of Lancaster, 488this to the prince, this to the Earl of Westmorland, and this to 489old mistress Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry 490since I perceived the first white hair of my chin. About it, you 491know where to find me.

1.2.73A pox of this gout, or a gout of this 492pox, for the one or the other plays the rogue with my great 494toe. 'Tis no matter if I do halt, I have the wars for my 495color and my pension shall seem the more reasonable. A good 496wit will make use of anything. I will turn diseases to 497commodity.