| ACT I.
2. SCENE II. London. A street.
 [Enter Falstaff, with his Page bearing his sword and buckler.]
 FALSTAFF.
Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water?
 
 PAGE.
He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy water; but,
 for the party that owed it, he might have moe diseases than he
 knew for.
 
 FALSTAFF.
Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me:  the brain of
 this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not able to invent any thing
 that tends to laughter, more than I invent or is invented on me:
 I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men.
 I do here walk before thee like a sow that hath overwhelmed all her
 litter but one.
 If the prince put thee into my service for any other reason than to
 set me off, why then I have no judgement. Thou whoreson mandrake, thou
 art fitter to be worn in my cap than to wait at my heels. I was never
 manned with an agate till now:  but I will inset you neither in gold nor
 silver, but in vile apparel, and send you back again to your master, for
 a jewel,--the juvenal, the prince your master, whose chin is not yet
 fledged. I will sooner have a beard grow in the palm of my hand than he
 shall get one on his cheek; and yet he will not stick to say his face is
 a face-royal:  God may finish it when he will, 'tis not a hair amiss yet:
 he may keep it still at a face-royal, for a barber shall never earn
 sixpence out of it; and yet he'll be crowing as if he had writ man ever
 since his father was a bachelor. He may keep his own grace, but he's
 almost out of mine, I can assure him. What said Master Dombledon about
 the satin for my short cloak and my slops?
 
 PAGE.
He said, sir, you should procure him better assurance than Bardolph:
 he would not take his band and yours; he liked not the security.
 
 |