Act 2 — Scene II. London. Another street.

Prince. Before God, I am exceeding weary.[3552] Poins. Is't come to that? I had thought weariness[3553] durst not have attached one of so high blood. Prince. Faith, it does me; though it discolours the[3554] complexion of my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth it5 not show vilely in me to desire small beer? Poins. Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied as to remember so weak a composition. Prince. Belike then my appetite was not princely got; for, by my troth, I do now remember the poor creature,[3555]10 small beer. But, indeed, these humble considerations make me out of love with my greatness. What a disgrace is it to me to remember thy name! or to know thy face tomorrow! or to take note how many pair of silk stockings[3556] thou hast, viz. these, and those that were thy peach-coloured[3557]15 ones! or to bear the inventory of thy shirts, as, one for[3558] superfluity, and another for use! But that the[3559] tennis-court-keeper knows better than I; for it is a low ebb of linen with thee when thou keepest not racket there; as thou hast not[3560] done a great while, because the rest of thy low countries[3561]20 have made a shift to eat up thy holland: and God knows[3562][3563] whether those that bawl out the ruins of thy linen shall[3563][3564] inherit his kingdom: but the midwives say the children[3563] are not in the fault; whereupon the world increases, and[3563] kindreds are mightily strengthened.[3563]25 Poins. How ill it follows, after you have laboured so hard, you should talk so idly! Tell me, how many good young princes would do so, their fathers being so sick as[3565] yours at this time is?[3566] Prince. Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins?30 Poins. Yes, faith; and let it be an excellent good thing.[3567] Prince. It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding than thine. Poins. Go to; I stand the push of your one thing that you will tell.[3568]35 Prince. Marry, I tell thee, it is not meet that I should[3569] be sad, now my father is sick: albeit I could tell to thee, as to one it pleases me, for fault of a better, to call my friend, I could be sad, and sad indeed too. Poins. Very hardly upon such a subject.40 Prince. By this hand, thou thinkest me as far in the[3570] devil's book as thou and Falstaff for obduracy and persistency: let the end try the man. But I tell thee, my heart bleeds inwardly that my father is so sick: and keeping such[3571] vile company as thou art hath in reason taken from me all45 ostentation of sorrow. Poins. The reason?[3572] Prince. What wouldst thou think of me, if I should weep? Poins. I would think thee a most princely hypocrite.50 Prince. It would be every man's thought; and thou art a blessed fellow to think as every man thinks: never a man's thought in the world keeps the road-way better than thine: every man would think me an hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most worshipful thought to think so?[3573]55 Poins. Why, because you have been so lewd, and so[3574] much engraffed to Falstaff. Prince. And to thee. Poins. By this light, I am well spoke on; I can hear it[3575] with mine own ears: the worst that they can say of me is[3576]60 that I am a second brother, and that I am a proper fellow of my hands; and those two things, I confess, I cannot help. By the mass, here comes Bardolph.[3577]

Prince. And the boy that I gave Falstaff: a' had him[3579] from me Christian; and look, if the fat villain have not[3580]65 transformed him ape. Bard. God save your grace![3581] Prince. And yours, most noble Bardolph! Bard. Come, you virtuous ass, you bashful fool, must[3582] you be blushing? wherefore blush you now? What a70 maidenly man-at-arms are you become! Is't such a[3583] matter to get a pottle-pot's maidenhead? Page. A' calls me e'en now, my lord, through a red[3584] lattice, and I could discern no part of his face from the window: at last I spied his eyes; and methought he had75 made two holes in the ale-wife's new petticoat and so[3585] peeped through. Prince. Has not the boy profited?[3586][3587] Bard. Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away![3586][3588] Page. Away, you rascally Althæa's dream, away!80 Prince. Instruct us, boy; what dream, boy? Page. Marry, my lord, Althæa dreamed she was[3589] delivered of a fire-brand; and therefore I call him her dream. Prince. A crown's worth of good interpretation: there 'tis, boy.[3590]85 Poins. O, that this good blossom could be kept from[3591] cankers! Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee. Bard. An you do not make him hanged among you,[3592] the gallows shall have wrong.[3593] Prince. And how doth thy master, Bardolph?90 Bard. Well, my lord. He heard of your grace's coming[3594] to town: there's a letter for you. Poins. Delivered with good respect. And how doth[3595] the martlemas, your master? Bard. In bodily health, sir.95 Poins. Marry, the immortal part needs a physician; but that moves not him: though that be sick, it dies not. Prince. I do allow this wen to be as familiar with me as my dog; and he holds his place; for look you how he[3596] writes.100 Poins. [Reads] 'John Falstaff, knight,'—every man must[3597] know that, as oft as he has occasion to name himself: even[3598] like those that are kin to the king; for they never prick their finger but they say, 'There's some of the king's blood[3599] spilt.' 'How comes that?' says he, that takes upon him105 not to conceive. The answer is as ready as a borrower's[3600] cap, 'I am the king's poor cousin, sir.'[3600] Prince. Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch[3601] it from Japhet. But to the letter:[3602] Poins. [Reads] 'Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of the[3603]110 king, nearest his father, Harry Prince of Wales, greeting.' Why,[3604] this is a certificate. Prince. Peace! Poins. [Reads] 'I will imitate the honourable Romans in[3605] brevity:' he sure means brevity in breath, short-winded. 'I[3606]115 commend me to thee, I commend thee, and I leave thee. Be not[3607] too familiar with Poins; for he misuses thy favours so much, that he swears thou art to marry his sister Nell. Repent at idle times as thou mayest; and so, farewell. 'Thine, by yea and no, which is as much as to say, as120 thou usest him, Jack Falstaff with my[3608] familiars, John with my brothers and sisters, and Sir[3609] John with all Europe.' My lord, I'll steep this letter in sack, and make him eat it.[3610] Prince. That's to make him eat twenty of his words.[3611]125 But do you use me thus, Ned? must I marry your sister? Poins. God send the wench no worse fortune! But I[3612] never said so. Prince. Well, thus we play the fools with the time;[3613] and the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us.130 Is your master here in London? Bard. Yea, my lord.[3614] Prince. Where sups he? doth the old boar feed in the[3615] old frank? Bard. At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap.135 Prince. What company? Page. Ephesians, my lord, of the old church. Prince. Sup any women with him? Page. None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly and Mistress Doll Tearsheet.140 Prince. What pagan may that be? Page. A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman of my master's. Prince. Even such kin as the parish heifers are to the[3616] town bull. Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at supper?145 Poins. I am your shadow, my lord; I'll follow you. Prince. Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to your master that I am yet come to town: there's for your[3617] silence. Bard. I have no tongue, sir.150 Page. And for mine, sir, I will govern it. Prince. Fare you well; go. [Exeunt Bardolph and Page.][3618] This Doll Tearsheet should be some road.[3619] Poins. I warrant you, as common as the way between Saint Alban's and London.155 Prince. How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night in his true colours, and not ourselves be seen?[3620] Poins. Put on two leathern jerkins and aprons, and[3621] wait upon him at his table as drawers.[3622] Prince. From a God to a bull? a heavy descension! it[3623][3624]160 was Jove's case. From a prince to a prentice? a low[3624][3625] transformation! that shall be mine; for in every thing the[3624] purpose must weigh with the folly. Follow me, Ned.