I have grated upon my good
friends for three reprieves for you and your coach-fellow,
Nym; or else you had look'd through the grate, like a
geminy of baboons.
friends for three reprieves for you and your coach-fellow,
Nym; or else you had look'd through the grate, like a
geminy of baboons.
Shakespeare
Well, I will look further into
't, and I have a disguise to sound Falstaff. If I find her
honest, I lose not my labour; if she be otherwise, 'tis labour
well bestowed. Exit
SCENE 2.
A room in the Garter Inn
Enter FALSTAFF and PISTOL
FALSTAFF. I will not lend thee a penny.
PISTOL. I will retort the sum in equipage.
FALSTAFF. Not a penny.
PISTOL. Why, then the world's mine oyster. Which I with
sword will open.
FALSTAFF. Not a penny. I have been content, sir, you should
lay my countenance to pawn.
I have grated upon my good
friends for three reprieves for you and your coach-fellow,
Nym; or else you had look'd through the grate, like a
geminy of baboons. I am damn'd in hell for swearing to
gentlemen my friends you were good soldiers and tall fellows;
and when Mistress Bridget lost the handle of her fan,
I took 't upon mine honour thou hadst it not.
PISTOL. Didst not thou share? Hadst thou not fifteen pence?
FALSTAFF. Reason, you rogue, reason. Think'st thou I'll
endanger my soul gratis? At a word, hang no more about me,
I am no gibbet for you. Go-a short knife and a throng! -
to your manor of Pickt-hatch; go. You'll not bear a letter
for me, you rogue! You stand upon your honour! Why,
thou unconfinable baseness, it is as much as I can do to
keep the terms of my honour precise. I, I, I myself
sometimes, leaving the fear of God on the left hand, and hiding
mine honour in my necessity, am fain to shuffle, to hedge,
and to lurch; and yet you, rogue, will ensconce your rags,
your cat-a-mountain looks, your red-lattice phrases, and
your bold-beating oaths, under the shelter of your honour!
You will not do it, you!
't, and I have a disguise to sound Falstaff. If I find her
honest, I lose not my labour; if she be otherwise, 'tis labour
well bestowed. Exit
SCENE 2.
A room in the Garter Inn
Enter FALSTAFF and PISTOL
FALSTAFF. I will not lend thee a penny.
PISTOL. I will retort the sum in equipage.
FALSTAFF. Not a penny.
PISTOL. Why, then the world's mine oyster. Which I with
sword will open.
FALSTAFF. Not a penny. I have been content, sir, you should
lay my countenance to pawn.
I have grated upon my good
friends for three reprieves for you and your coach-fellow,
Nym; or else you had look'd through the grate, like a
geminy of baboons. I am damn'd in hell for swearing to
gentlemen my friends you were good soldiers and tall fellows;
and when Mistress Bridget lost the handle of her fan,
I took 't upon mine honour thou hadst it not.
PISTOL. Didst not thou share? Hadst thou not fifteen pence?
FALSTAFF. Reason, you rogue, reason. Think'st thou I'll
endanger my soul gratis? At a word, hang no more about me,
I am no gibbet for you. Go-a short knife and a throng! -
to your manor of Pickt-hatch; go. You'll not bear a letter
for me, you rogue! You stand upon your honour! Why,
thou unconfinable baseness, it is as much as I can do to
keep the terms of my honour precise. I, I, I myself
sometimes, leaving the fear of God on the left hand, and hiding
mine honour in my necessity, am fain to shuffle, to hedge,
and to lurch; and yet you, rogue, will ensconce your rags,
your cat-a-mountain looks, your red-lattice phrases, and
your bold-beating oaths, under the shelter of your honour!
You will not do it, you!