Fal. Now comes in the sweetest morsel of
the night, and we must hence and leave it un-
picked. [Knocking within.] More knocking at
the door! 404
[Enter Bardolph.]
How now! what's the matter?
Bard. You must away to court, sir, presently;
A dozen captains stay at door for you.
Fal. [To the Page]. Pay the musicians, sirrah. 408
Farewell, hostess, farewell, Doll. You see, my
good wenches, how men of merit are sought
after: the undeserver may sleep when the man
of action is called on. Farewell, good wenches. 412
If I be not sent away post, I will see you again
ere I go.
Dol. I cannot speak; if my heart be not
ready to burst,—well, sweet Jack, have a care 416
of thyself.
Fal. Farewell, farewell.
Exit [Falstaff, with Bardolph].
Host. Well, fare thee well: I have known
thee these twenty-nine years, come peascod- 420
time; but an honester, and truer-hearted man,
—well, fare thee well.
Bard. [Within.] Mistress Tearsheet!
Host. What's the matter? 424
Bard. [Within.] Bid Mistress Tearsheet come
to my master.
Host. O! run, Doll, run; run, good Doll.
Come! 428 She comes blubbered.
Yea, will you come, Doll? Exeunt.
413 post: in haste
428 S. d. blubbered: in tears