nose, of the wicked? POINS. Answer, thou dead elm, answer. FALSTAFF. The fiend hath prick'd down Bardolph irrecoverable; and his face is Lucifer's privy-kitchen, where he doth nothing but roast malt-worms. For the boy--there is a good angel about him; but the devil outbids him too. PRINCE. For the women? FALSTAFF. For one of them--she's in hell already, and burns poor souls. For th' other--I owe her money; and whether she be damn'd for that, I know not. HOSTESS. No, I warrant you. FALSTAFF. No, I think thou art not; I think thou art quit for that. Marry, there is another indictment upon thee for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house, contrary to the law; for the which I think thou wilt howl. HOSTESS. All vict'lers do so. What's a joint of mutton or two in a whole Lent? PRINCE. You, gentlewoman-- DOLL. What says your Grace? FALSTAFF. His Grace says that which his flesh rebels against. [Knocking within] HOSTESS. Who knocks so loud at door? Look to th' door there, Francis. Enter PETO PRINCE. Peto, how now! What news? PETO. The King your father is at Westminster; And there are twenty weak and wearied posts Come from the north; and as I came along I met and overtook a dozen captains, Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns, And asking every one for Sir John Falstaff. 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 unpick'd. [Knocking within] More knocking at the door! Re-enter BARDOLPH