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!
PISTOL. I do relent; what would thou more of man?
Enter ROBIN
ROBIN. Sir, here's a woman would speak with you.
FALSTAFF. Let her approach.
Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY
QUICKLY. Give your worship good morrow.
FALSTAFF. Good morrow, good wife.
QUICKLY. Not so, an't please your worship.
FALSTAFF. Good maid, then.
QUICKLY. I'll be sworn;
As my mother was, the first hour I was born.
FALSTAFF. I do believe the swearer. What with me?
QUICKLY. Shall I vouchsafe your worship a word or two?
FALSTAFF. Two thousand, fair woman; and I'll vouchsafe
thee the hearing.
QUICKLY. There is one Mistress Ford, sir-I pray, come a little
nearer this ways.
Pages:
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57