Enter Bardolph.
How now, what’s the matter?
BARDOLPH.
You must away to court, sir, presently.
A dozen captains stay at door for you.
FALSTAFF.
[To the Page.] Pay the musicians, sirrah. Farewell, hostess; farewell, Doll. You see, my good wenches, how men of merit are sought after. The undeserver may sleep, when the man of action is called on. Farewell, good wenches. If I be not sent away post, I will see you again ere I go.
DOLL.
I cannot speak; if my heart be not ready to burst—well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself.
FALSTAFF.
Farewell, farewell.
[Exeunt Falstaff and Bardolph.]
HOSTESS.
Well, fare thee well. I have known thee these twenty-nine years, come peascod-time; but an honester and truer-hearted man—well, fare thee well.
BARDOLPH.
[Within.] Mistress Tearsheet!
HOSTESS.
What’s the matter?