Shakespeare, William / 2008-07-25 00:00:00

Give me a cup of sack to
make my eyes look red, that it may be thought I have
wept; for I must speak in passion, and I will do it
in King Cambyses' vein.
PRINCE HENRY Well, here is my leg.
FALSTAFF And here is my speech. Stand aside, nobility.
Hostess O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i' faith!
FALSTAFF Weep not, sweet queen; for trickling tears are vain.
Hostess O, the father, how he holds his countenance!
FALSTAFF For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful queen;
For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes.
Hostess O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry
players as ever I see!
FALSTAFF Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good tickle-brain.
Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy
time, but also how thou art accompanied: for though
the camomile, the more it is trodden on the faster
it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted the
sooner it wears. That thou art my son, I have
partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion,
but chiefly a villanous trick of thine eye and a
foolish-hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant
me. If then thou be son to me, here lies the point;
why, being son to me, art thou so pointed at? Shall
the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher and eat
blackberries? a question not to be asked. Shall
the sun of England prove a thief and take purses? a
question to be asked. There is a thing, Harry,
which thou hast often heard of and it is known to
many in our land by the name of pitch: this pitch,
as ancient writers do report, doth defile; so doth
the company thou keepest: for, Harry, now I do not
speak to thee in drink but in tears, not in
pleasure but in passion, not in words only, but in
woes also: and yet there is a virtuous man whom I
have often noted in thy company, but I know not his name.
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