3325First my fear, then my curtsy, last my speech.

3326My fear is your displeasure; my curtsy, my duty, and my speech, 3327to beg your pardons. If you look for a good speech now, you 3328undo me, for what I have to say is of mine own making; and 3329what indeed I should say will, I doubt, prove mine own 3330marring. But to the purpose, and so to the venture. Be it known to 3331you, as it is very well, I was lately here in the end of a 3332displeasing play, to pray your patience for it and to promise you a 3333better. I meant indeed to pay you with this, which, if like an ill 3334venture it come unluckily home, I break, and you, my gentle 3335creditors, lose. Here I promised you I would be, and here I commit my body 3336to your mercies. Bate me some and I will pay you some, and, as most debtors do, promise you infinitely. And so I 3336.1kneel down before you -- but, indeed, to pray for the Queen.

3338If my tongue cannot entreat you to acquit me, will you command me to use 3339my legs? And yet that were but light payment, to dance out of your debt. But 3340a good conscience will make any possible satisfaction, and so would I. All 3341the gentlewomen here have forgiven me; if the gentlemen will not, then the gentlemen 3342do not agree with the gentlewomen, which was never seen in such an assembly.

3344One word more, I beseech you. If you be not too much cloyed with fat meat, 3345our humble author will continue the story with Sir John in it, and make you 3346merry with fair Katharine of France; where, for anything I know, Falstaff 3347shall die of a sweat, unless already 'a be killed with your hard 3348opinions; for Oldcastle died martyr, and this is not the man. My tongue is weary, 3349when my legs are too, I will bid you good night.