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.
Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off?
Let's beat him before his whore.
Look, whether the withered elder hath not his poll
clawed like a parrot.
Is it not strange that desire should so many years
outlive performance?
Kiss me, Doll.
Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! what
says the almanac to that?
And look, whether the fiery Trigon, his man, be not
lisping to his master's old tables, his note-book,
his counsel-keeper.
Thou dost give me flattering busses.
By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant heart.
I am old, I am old.
I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy young
boy of them all.
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.
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.
Some sack, Francis.
Anon, anon, sir.
Ha! a bastard son of the king's? And art not thou
Poins his brother?
Why, thou globe of sinful continents! what a life
dost thou lead!
A better than thou: I am a gentleman; thou art a drawer.
Very true, sir; and I come to draw you out by the ears.
O, the Lord preserve thy good grace! by my troth,
welcome to London. Now, the Lord bless that sweet
face of thine! O, Jesu, are you come from Wales?
Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty, by this light
flesh and corrupt blood, thou art welcome.
How, you fat fool! I scorn you.
My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge and
turn all to a merriment, if you take not the heat.
You whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did you
speak of me even now before this honest, virtuous,
civil gentlewoman!
God's blessing of your good heart! and so she is,
by my troth.
Didst thou hear me?
Yea