Question surveyors, know our own estate, To weigh against his opposite; or else Using the names of men instead of men : Like one that draws the model of a house A naked subject to the weeping clouds Hast. Grant that our hopes, yet likely of fair birth, Should be still-born, and that we now possessed I think we are a body strong enough, Even as we are, to equal with the king. L. Bard. What, is the king but five-and-twenty thousand? Hast. To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord Bardolph. For his divisions, as the times do brawl, Are in three heads: one power against the And one against Glendower; perforce, a third In three divided; and his coffers sound With hollow poverty and emptiness. Arch. That he should draw his several strengths together And come against us in full puissance, Need not be dreaded. Hast. If he should do so, He leaves his back unarmed, the French and Welsh Baying him at the heels: never fear that. L. Bard. Who is it like should lead his forces hither? Hast. The Duke of Lancaster and Westmore land: Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth; But who is substituted 'gainst the French, I have no certain notice. Arch. Let us on, And publish the occasion of our arms. The commonwealth is sick of their own choice; An habitation giddy and unsure Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart. O thou fond many! with what loud applause Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him, That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up. And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up, times? They that, when Richard lived, would have him die, Are now become enamoured on his grave: Thou, that threw 'st dust upon his goodly head, Cry'st now, 'O earth, yield us that king again, Mowb. Shall we go draw our numbers and set on? Hast. We are time's subjects, and time bids [Exeunt. be gone. Enter Hostess, FANG and his Boy with her, and SNARE following. Host. Master Fang, have you entered the action? Fang. It is entered. Host. Where's your yeoman? Is 't a lusty yeoman? will 'a stand to 't? Fang. Sirrah, where 's Snare? Host. O Lord, ay: good Master Snare. Fang. Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff, Host. Yea, good Master Snare; I have entered him and all. Snare. It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he will stab. Host. Alas the day! take heed of him; he stabbed me in mine own house, and that most beastly. In good faith, 'a cares not what mischief he doth, if his weapon be out: he will foin like any devil; he will spare neither man, woman, nor child. Fang. If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust. Host. No, nor I neither: I'll be at your elbow. Fang. An I but fist him once; an he come but within my vice, Host. I am undone by his going; I warrant you, he's an infinitive thing upon my score.-Good Master Fang, hold him sure :-good Master Snare, let him not 'scape. 'A comes continuantly to Pie Corner (saving your manhoods) to buy a saddle; and he's indited to dinner to the Lubbar's Head in Lumbert Street, to Master Smooth's the silkman: I pray you, since my exion is entered, and my case so openly known to the world, let him be brought in to his answer. A hundred mark is a long one for a poor lone woman to bear; and I have borne, and borne, and borne, and have been fubbed off, and fubbed off, and fubbed off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame to be thought on. There is no honesty in such dealing, unless a woman should be made an ass, and a beast to bear every knave's wrong.-Yonder he comes; and that arrant malmsey nose, Bardolph, with him. Enter Sir JOHN FALSTAFF, Page, and BARDOLPH. Do your offices, do your offices, Master Fang, and |