Host. O, that right should thus o'recome might. Wel of sufferance, comes ease Dol. Come you Rogue, come: Bring me to a Iustice Host. Yes, come you staru'd Blood-hound Dol. Goodman death, goodman Bones Host. Thou Anatomy, thou Dol. Come you thinne Thing: Come you Rascall Off. Very well. Exeunt. Scena Quinta. Enter two Groomes. 1.Groo. More Rushes, more Rushes 2.Groo. The Trumpets haue sounded twice 1.Groo. It will be two of the Clocke, ere they come from the Coronation. Exit Groo. Enter Falstaffe, Shallow, Pistoll, Bardolfe, and Page. Falstaffe. Stand heere by me, M[aster]. Robert Shallow, I will make the King do you Grace. I will leere vpon him, as he comes by: and do but marke the countenance that hee will giue me Pistol. Blesse thy Lungs, good Knight Falst. Come heere Pistol, stand behind me. O if I had had time to haue made new Liueries, I would haue bestowed the thousand pound I borrowed of you. But it is no matter, this poore shew doth better: this doth inferre the zeale I had to see him Shal. It doth so Falst. It shewes my earnestnesse in affection Pist. It doth so Fal. My deuotion Pist. It doth, it doth, it doth Fal. As it were, to ride day and night, And not to deliberate, not to remember, Not to haue patience to shift me Shal. It is most certaine Fal. But to stand stained with Trauaile, and sweating with desire to see him, thinking of nothing else, putting all affayres in obliuion, as if there were nothing els to bee done, but to see him Pist. 'Tis semper idem: for obsque hoc nihil est. 'Tis all in euery part Shal. 'Tis so indeed Pist. My Knight, I will enflame thy Noble Liuer, and make thee rage. Thy Dol, and Helen of thy noble thoghts is in base Durance, and contagious prison: Hall'd thither by most Mechanicall and durty hand. Rowze vppe Reuenge from Ebon den, with fell Alecto's Snake, for Dol is in. Pistol, speakes nought but troth Fal. I will deliuer her Pistol. There roar'd the Sea: and Trumpet Clangour sounds. The Trumpets sound. Enter King Henrie the Fift, Brothers, Lord Chiefe Iustice. Falst. Saue thy Grace, King Hall, my Royall Hall Pist. The heauens thee guard, and keepe, most royall Impe of Fame Fal. 'Saue thee my sweet Boy King. My Lord Chiefe Iustice, speake to that vaine man Ch.Iust. Haue you your wits? Know you what 'tis you speake? Falst. My King, my Ioue; I speake to thee, my heart