Page 1045 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

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. [260]

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. [265]

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 [270] sayest so. Prove that
ever I dress myself handsome till thy return. Well, hearken a’ th’ end.

FALSTAFF

Some sack, Francis.

PRINCE, POINS

Anon, anon, sir.
[Come forward.]

FALSTAFF
Ha! a bastard son of the king’s? And art not [275] thou Poins his brother?

PRINCE
Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a life dost thou lead!