At the Boar's Head Holst / Shakespeare Bardolph of All The
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At the Boar’s Head You rogue, here’s lime in this sack, too! Holst / Shakespeare There is nothing but roguery to be found in villainous man Bardolph Yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack Of all the birds that ever I see with lime in it The owl is fairest in her degree A villainous coward! For all the day long she sits on a tree Go thy ways, old Jack; And when the night comes away flies she Die when thou wilt, If manhood, good manhood, be not forgot Peto & Gadshill upon the face of the earth Te white te whoo Then am I a shotten herring There lives not three good men unhanged Bardolph in England; To whom drinkst thou? And one of them is fair, and grows old; God help the while! Peto & Gadshill A bad world, I say Sir Knave, to you I would I were a weaver; I could sing psalms or anything. All A plague of all cowards I say still This song is well sung I make you a vow And he is a knave that drinketh now Prince How now, woolsack! What mutter you? Peto & Gadshill Nose, nose, jolly red nose, Falstaff And who gave thee that jolly red nose? A King’s son! If I do not beat thee out of thy kingdom Bardolph With a dagger of lath, and drive all thy Cinnamon, ginger, nutmegs and cloves subjects afore thee And that gave me my jolly red nose Like a flock of wild geese Of all the birds that ever I see I’ll never wear hair on my face more. The owl is fairest in her degree You Prince of Wales! For all the day long she sits on a tree And when the night comes away flies she Prince Why, you whoreson round man, what’s Falstaff the matter? Give me a cup of sack, boy A plague of all cowards I say, Falstaff And a vengeance too! Are you not a coward? Answer me to that; Marry and amen! and Poins there? Ere I lead this life long I’ll sew nether stocks and mend them and Prince foot them too. Zounds! Ye fat paunch, an ye call me Give me a cup of sack, rogue coward A plague of all cowards I say By the Lord, I’ll stab thee And a vengeance too! Marry and amen Falstaff My sword hacked like a handsaw ecce I call thee coward! I’ll see thee damned signum! ere I call thee coward I never dealt better since I was a man; all But I would give a thousand pound I could would not do. run as fast as thou canst A plague of all cowards! Let them speak; You are straight enough in the shoulders, If they speak more of less than truth, they you care not who sees your back; are villains and the sons of darkness. Call you that backing of your friends? A plague upon such backing! Prince Give me them that will face me. Give me a Speak, sirs; how was it? cup of sack; I am a rogue, if I drunk today Gadshill We four set upon some dozen Prince O villain! They lips are scarce wiped since Falstaff you drunkest last Sixteen at least, my lord Falstaff Gadshill All’s one for that And bound them A plague of all cowards, still say I Peto Prince No, no, they were not bound What’s the matter? Falstaff Falstaff You rogue, they were bound, every man What’s the matter! There be four of us of them here have ta’en a thousand pound this Or I am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew day morning Gadshill Prince As we were sharing, some six or seven Where is it, Jack? Where is it? fresh men set upon us Falstaff Falstaff Where is it! Taken from us it is; a hundred And unbound the rest, and then come in upon poor four of us. the other Prince Prince What, a hundred, man? What, fought you with them all? Falstaff Falstaff I am a rogue, if I were not a half-sword All! I know not what you call all; but if I with a dozen of them two hours together. fought not with fifty of them, I have ‘scaped by miracle I am a bunch of radish I am eight time thrust through the doublet, four through the hose; Prince My buckler cut through and through; Pray God you have not murdered some of them? Falstaff Prince Nay, that’s past praying for Ay, and mark thee too, Jack I have peppered two of them; Two I am sure I have paid Falstaff Two rogues in buckram suits Do so, for it is worth the listening to. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell thee a lie These nine in buckram that I told thee of Spit in my face, call me horse. Though knowest my old ward; here I lay, Prince and thus I bore my point So, two more already Four rogues in buckram let drive at me – Falstaff Prince Their points being broken, began to give What, four? Thou saidest but two even me ground; now. But I followed me close, came in foot and hand; Falstaff And with a thought seven of the eleven I Four, Hal; I told thee four paid Poins Prince Ay, ay, he said four O monstrous! Eleven buckram men grown out of two! Falstaff These four came all afront, and mainly Falstaff thrust at me But, as the devil would have it, I made me no more ado but took all their Three misbegotten knaves in Kendal green seven points in my target, thus; came at my back and let drive me; For it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst Prince not see thy hand Seven? Why, there were but four even now Prince These lies are like their father that begets Falstaff them; In buckram? Gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why thou clay-brained guts, thou knotty Points patted fool, Ay, four, in buckram suits Thou whoreson, obscene, greasy tallow catch Falstaff Seven, but these hilts, or I am a villain else Falstaff What, art thou mad? Art thou mad? Prince Is not the truth the truth? Prithee, let him alone, we shall have more anon Prince Why, how couldst thou know these men Falstaff in Kendal green, when it was so dark Dost thou hear me, Hal? Thou couldst not see thy hand? Come, tell us your reason: And have it; yea, and can show it you here What sayest thou to this? in the house: And, Falstaff, you carried your guts away Poins as nimbly, with as quick dexterity Come, your reason, Jack, your reason And roared for mercy, and still run and roared Falstaff As ever I heard bull-calf What, upon compulsion? What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword Zounds! An I were at the strappado, or all as thou hast done the racks in the world And then say it was in flight! I would not tell you on compulsion What trick, what device, what startling Give you a reason on compulsion! hole canst thou now find out If reasons were as plentiful as blackberries To hide thee from this open and apparent I would give no man a reason upon shame? compulsion, I! Poins Prince Come, let’s hear, Jack; what trick hast I’ll be no longer guilty of this sin; thou now? This sanguine coward, this bed presser, This back breaker, this huge hill of flesh – Falstaff By the Lord, I knew ye as well as he that Falstaff made ye ‘Sblood! You starveling, you elf-skin Why, hear you, my masters; was it for me You dried neat’s-tongue, you stockfish! to kill the heir apparent? O for breath to utter what is like thee! Should I turn upon the true prince? You tailor’s beard, you sheath, Why, thou knowest I am as valiant as You bowcase, you vile standing tuck Hercules But beware instinct; the lion will not touch Prince the true prince Well – breathe a while, and then to it Instinct is a great matter, I was now a again coward on instinct And when you hast tired theyself in base I shall think the better of myself and thee comparisons during my life Hear me speak but this – I for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince Points But by the Lord, lads, I am glad you have Mark, Jack the money Hostess! Clap the doors, watch tonight, Prince pray tomorrow We two saw you four set on four and Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, bound them, All the titles of good fellowship come to And were masters of their wealth. you! Mark, now, how a plain tale shall put you What, shall we be merry? down. Shall we have a play tempore? Then did we two set on you four, And, with a word, outfaced you from your prize Prince If all the year we playing holidays Content, and the argument shall be thy To sport would be as tedious as to work; running away But when they seldom come, they wish’d for come Falstaff And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents Ah, no more of that, Hal, and thou lovest So when this loose behaviour I throw off me! And pay the debt I never promised By how much better than my word I am Hostess But so much shall I falsify men’s hopes Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the And like bright metal on a sullen ground court at door would speak with you; My reformation glittering o’er my fault He says he comes from your father Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes Prince Than that which hath no foil to set it off.