Page 717 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

FALSTAFF

Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of thee, now shalt thou be moved.
Give me a cup of sack to make my eyes look red, that it may be thought I
have wept; for I must speak in passion, and I will do it in King [370]

Cambyses’ vein.

PRINCE

Well, here is my leg.

FALSTAFF
And here is my speech. Stand aside, nobility.

HOSTESS
O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i’faith!

FALSTAFF
Weep not, sweet queen, for trickling tears are vain. [375]

HOSTESS
O, the Father, how he holds his countenance!

FALSTAFF
For God’s sake, lords, convey my tristful queen!
For tears do stop the floodgates of her eyes.

HOSTESS

O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry players as ever I see! [380]

FALSTAFF

Peace, good pintpot. Peace, good tickle-brain. − Harry, I do not only marvel
where thou spendest thy time, but also how thou art accompanied. For
though the camomile, the more it is trodden on, the faster it grows, yet

youth, the more it is wasted, the sooner it [385] wears. That thou art my son
I have partly thy mother’s word, partly my own opinion, but chiefly a
villainous trick of thine eye and a foolish hanging of thy nether lip that doth
warrant me. If then thou be son to me, here lies the point: why, being son to
me, art thou so pointed [390] at? Shall the blessed sun of heaven prove a