Indeed Sir, I doubt....
FALSTAFF
(testily) Doubt not, Sirrah! (He continues more calmly in a virtuous manner) Was not the apostle reproved for that same sin? Thou art a Didymus, Bardolph,—an incredulous paynim, a most unspeculative rogue. Have I carracks trading in the Indies? Have I robbed the exchequer of late? Have I the Golden Fleece for a cloak? Nay, it is a paltry gimlet, and that augurs badly. Why does this knavish watchman take me for a raven to feed him in the wilderness? Tell him that there are no such ravens hereabouts; else I had ravenously limed the house-tops and sets springes in the gutters. Inform him that my purse is no better lined than his own broken skull; it is void as a beggar’s protestations, or a butcher’s stall in Lent; light as a famished gnat, or the sighing of a new-made widower; more empty than a last year’s bird’s nest, than a madman’s eye, or, in fine, than the friendship of a king.
MISTRESS QUICKLY
But you have wealthy friends, Sir John. (She nods her head vigorously) Yes I warrant you Sir John. Sir John, you have a many wealthy friends; you cannot deny that, Sir John.
FALSTAFF
(He cowers closer to the fire as though he were a little cold) I have no friends since Hal is King. I had I grant you, a few score of acquaintances whom I taught to play at dice; paltry young blades of the City, very unfledged juvenals! Setting my knighthood and my valor aside, if I did swear friendship with these, I did swear to a lie. But this is a censorious and muddy-minded world, so that, look you, even these sprouting aldermen, these foul, bacon-fed rogues, have fled my friendship of late, and my reputation hath grown somewhat more murky than Erebus. No matter! I walk alone as one that hath the pestilence. No matter! But I grow old, I am not in the vanward of my youth, Mistress.
(He reaches for the cup of sack that Bardolph has poured out and holds on a tray at his elbow.)
MISTRESS QUICKLY
Indeed, I do not know what your worship will do.