Thou dost give me
flattering
busses.
Shakespeare
Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off?
POINS. Let's beat him before his whore.
PRINCE. Look whe'er the wither'd elder hath not his poll claw'd
like a parrot.
POINS. Is it not strange that desire should so many years outlive
performance?
FALSTAFF. Kiss me, Doll.
PRINCE. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! What says th'
almanac to that?
POINS. 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.
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.
FALSTAFF. What stuff wilt have a kirtle of? I shall receive money a
Thursday. Shalt have a cap to-morrow. A merry song, come. 'A
grows late; we'll to bed. Thou't forget me when I am gone.
DOLL. By my troth, thou't set me a-weeping, an thou say'st so.
POINS. Let's beat him before his whore.
PRINCE. Look whe'er the wither'd elder hath not his poll claw'd
like a parrot.
POINS. Is it not strange that desire should so many years outlive
performance?
FALSTAFF. Kiss me, Doll.
PRINCE. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! What says th'
almanac to that?
POINS. 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.
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.
FALSTAFF. What stuff wilt have a kirtle of? I shall receive money a
Thursday. Shalt have a cap to-morrow. A merry song, come. 'A
grows late; we'll to bed. Thou't forget me when I am gone.
DOLL. By my troth, thou't set me a-weeping, an thou say'st so.
