Henry IV, Part II, William Shakespeare [love letters to the dead txt] 📗

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 pack-horses
And hollow pamper’d jades of Asia,
Which cannot go but thirty mile a-day,
Compare with Caesars, and with Cannibals,
And Trojan 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 abrawl anon. Pistol Die men like dogs! give crowns like pins! Have we not Heren here? Hostess O’ my word, captain, there’s none such here. What the good-year! 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 nothing?

Falstaff Pistol, I would be quiet. Pistol Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif: 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 He you not hurt i’ the groin? methought a’ made a shrewd thrust at your belly. Re-enter Bardolph. Falstaff Have you turned him out o’ doors? Bardolph Yea, sir. The rascal’s drunk: you have hurt him, sir, i’ the shoulder. Falstaff A rascal! to brave me! Doll Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! alas, poor ape, how thou sweatest! 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 darest for thy heart: an thou dost, I’ll canvass thee between a pair of sheets. Enter Music. Page The music is come, sir. Falstaff Let them play. Play, sirs. Sit on my knee, Doll. A rascal bragging slave! the rogue fled from me like quicksilver. Doll I’ faith, and thou followedst him like a church. Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou leave fighting o’ days and foining o’ nights, and begin to patch up thine old body for heaven? Enter, behind, Prince Henry and Poins, disguised. 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 joined-stools, 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, whether the withered elder hath not his poll clawed 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 the almanac to that? Poins And, look, whether the fiery Trigon, his man, be not lisping to his master’s old tables, his note-book, 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 o’ Thursday: shalt have a cap to-morrow. A merry song, come: it grows late; we’ll to bed. Thou’lt forget me when I am gone. Doll By my troth, thou’lt set me a-weeping, an thou sayest so: prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return: well, harken at the end. Falstaff Some sack, Francis. Prince Henry
Poins Anon, anon, sir. Coming forward. Falstaff Ha! a bastard son of the king’s? And art not thou 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