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| Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH
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FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH enter. |
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| | FALSTAFF |
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Bardolph, am I not fallen away vilely since this last action? |
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Do I not bate? Do I not dwindle? Why, my skin hangs about |
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me like an like an old lady's loose gown. I am withered like |
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an old applejohn. Well, I'll repent, and that suddenly, while |
| 5 |
I am in some liking. I shall be out of heart shortly, and then |
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I shall have no strength to repent. An I have not forgotten |
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what the inside of a church is made of, I am a peppercorn, |
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a brewer's horse. The inside of a church! Company, |
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villanous company, hath been the spoil of me. |
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| FALSTAFF |
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Bardolph, haven't I shrivelled since our last robbery? Haven't I gotten thin? Aren't I shrinking? My skin is hanging off me like a loose gown on an old lady; I'm puckered like a rotten apple. I'd better repent my sins, and fast, while there's still something left of me. I'll be in bad shape soon, and then I won't have the strength to repent. If I haven't forgotten what the inside of a church looks like, I'm a withered berry, a lame old nag. The inside of a church! The wrong crowd, the wrong crowd has ruined me. |
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| | BARDOLPH |
| 10 |
Sir John, you are so fretful you cannot live long. |
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| BARDOLPH |
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Sir John, you complain so much, you're sure not to live much longer. |
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| | FALSTAFF |
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Why, there is it. Come sing me a bawdy song, make me |
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merry. I was as virtuously given as a gentleman need to be, |
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virtuous enough: swore little; diced not above seven times— |
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a week; went to a bawdy house once in a quarter—of an |
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hour; paid money that I borrowed, three or four times; lived |
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well and in good compass; and now I live out of all order, out |
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of all compass. |
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| FALSTAFF |
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You're absolutely right. Come on then, sing me a dirty song. Make me laugh. I lived my life as properly as a gentleman should. Well, properly enough, anyway. I didn't swear much. I didn't gamble—more than seven days a week. I went to a whorehouse no more than once—every fifteen minutes. I paid my debts—three or four times. I lived well and within reasonable boundaries. And now, I live poorly and out of moderation. |
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| | BARDOLPH |
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Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needs be out of |
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all compass, out of all reasonable compass, Sir John. |
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| BARDOLPH |
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You're so fat, Sir John, that you have no choice but to live out of moderation: moderation could not fit you. |
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| | FALSTAFF |
| 20 |
Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life. Thou art our |
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admiral, thou bearest the lantern in the poop, but 'tis in the |
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nose of thee. Thou art the knight of the burning lamp. |
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| FALSTAFF |
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You fix your face and I'll fix my life. You're like the flagship of our fleet, with a light on its bow—except that your light is in your nose. |
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| | BARDOLPH |
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Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm. |
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| BARDOLPH |
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Why, Sir John, my face isn't hurting you. |
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