PRINCE.
By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame,
So idly to profane the precious time,
When tempest of commotion, like the south
Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt
And drop upon our bare unarmed heads.
Give me my sword and cloak. Falstaff, good night.
[Exeunt Prince, Poins, Peto and Bardolph.]
FALSTAFF.
Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and we must hence and leave it unpicked.
[Knocking within.] More knocking at the door?
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.]