Host. No, I warrant you.
Fal. No, I think thou art not; I think thou
art quit for that. Marry, there is another in- 376
dictment upon thee, for suffering flesh to be
eaten in thy house, contrary to the law; for the
which I think thou wilt howl.
Host. All victuallers do so: what's a joint of 380
mutton or two in a whole Lent?
Prince. You, gentlewoman,—
Dol. What says your Grace?
Fal. His Grace says that which his flesh 384
rebels against.
Host. Who knocks so loud at door? Look
to the door there, Francis.
Enter Peto.
Prince. Peto, how now! what news? 388
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, 392
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, 396
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. 400
376 quit: absolved
390 posts: couriers
397 south: south wind
