SECOND DRAWER. Mass, thou sayest true. The Prince once set a dish of applejohns before him, and told him there were five more Sir Johns, and, putting off his hat, said “I will now take my leave of these six dry, round, old, withered knights.” It angered him to the heart. But he hath forgot that. FIRST DRAWER. Why then, cover, and set them down, and see if thou canst find out Sneak’s noise. Mistress Tearsheet would fain hear some music. Dispatch. The room where they supped is too hot, they’ll come in straight. SECOND DRAWER. Sirrah, here will be the Prince and Master Poins anon, and they will put on two of our jerkins and aprons, and Sir John must not know of it. Bardolph hath brought word. FIRST DRAWER. By the mass, here will be old utis. It will be an excellent stratagem. SECOND DRAWER. I’ll see if I can find out Sneak. [_Exit._] Enter Hostess and Doll Tearsheet. HOSTESS. I’ faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in an excellent good temperality. Your pulsidge beats as extraordinarily as heart would desire, and your colour, I warrant you, is as red as any rose, in good truth, la! But, i’ faith, you have drunk too much canaries, and that’s a marvellous searching wine, and it perfumes the blood ere one can say “What’s this?” How do you now? DOLL. Better than I was. Hem! HOSTESS. Why, that’s well said. A good heart’s worth gold. Lo, here comes Sir John. Enter Falstaff. FALSTAFF. [_Singing_.] “When Arthur first in court”—Empty the jordan. [_Exit First Drawer_.]—[_Singing_.] “And was a worthy king.” How now, Mistress Doll! HOSTESS. Sick of a calm, yea, good faith. FALSTAFF. So is all her sect; an they be once in a calm, they are sick. DOLL. A pox damn you, you muddy rascal, is that all the comfort you give me? FALSTAFF. You make fat rascals, Mistress Doll. DOLL. I make them? Gluttony and diseases make them; I make them not. FALSTAFF. If the cook help to make the gluttony, you help to make the diseases, Doll: we catch of you, Doll. We catch of you; grant that, my poor virtue, grant that. DOLL. Yea, joy, our chains and our jewels. FALSTAFF. “Your brooches, pearls, and ouches:”—for to serve bravely is to come halting off, you know; to come off the breach with his pike bent bravely, and to surgery bravely; to venture upon the charged chambers bravely— DOLL. Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang yourself! HOSTESS. By my troth, this is the old fashion; you two never meet but you fall to some discord. You are both, i’ good truth, as rheumatic as two dry toasts. You cannot one bear with another’s confirmities. What the good-year! One must bear, and that must be you. You are the weaker vessel, as as they say, the emptier vessel.