Boy

Roses, their sharp spines being gone,
Not royal in their smells alone,
But in their hue;
Maiden pinks, of odor faint,
Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint,
And sweet thyme true;
Primrose, firstborn child of Ver,
Merry springtime’s harbinger,
With her bells dim;
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Duchess
Peace, children, peace. The King doth love
you well. Incapable and shallow innocents,
You cannot guess who caused your father’s death.
Boy
Grandam, we can, for my good uncle Gloucester
Told me the King, provoked to it by the Queen,
Devised impeachments to imprison him;
And when my uncle told me so,
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Pistol
Bardolph,
be blithe.—Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins.— Boy,
bristle thy courage up. For Falstaff, he is dead, and
we must earn therefore.
Bardolph
Would I were with him, wheresome’er he
is, either in heaven or in hell.

Trust none, for oaths are straws,
men’s faiths are wafer-cakes

Hostess
Nay,
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Enobarbus, to Antony
Ha, my brave emperor,
Shall we dance now the Egyptian bacchanals
And celebrate our drink?
Pompey
Let’s ha ‘t, good soldier.
Antony
Come, let’s all take hands
Till that the conquering wine hath steeped our sense
In soft and delicate Lethe.
Enobarbus
All take hands.
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Antony
Come, let’s all take hands
Till that the conquering wine hath steeped our sense
In soft and delicate Lethe.
Enobarbus
All take hands.
Make battery to our ears with the loud music,
The while I’ll place you; then the boy shall sing.
The holding every man shall beat as loud
As his strong sides can volley.
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Boy
Master, will you win your love with a French brawl?
Armado
How meanest thou? Brawling in French?
Boy
No, my complete master, but to jig off a tune at the tongue’s end, canary to it with your feet, humor it with turning up your eyelids, sigh a note and sing a note, sometimes through the throat as if you swallowed love with singing love,
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Armado
Fetch hither the swain. He must carry me a letter.
Boy
A message well sympathized—a horse to be ambassador for an ass.
Armado
Ha? Ha? What sayest thou?
Boy
Marry, sir, you must send the ass upon the horse, for he is very slow-gaited. But I go.
Armado
The way is but short.
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Bardolph
On, on, on, on, on! To the breach, to the breach!
Nym
Pray thee, corporal, stay. The knocks are too hot,
and, for mine own part, I have not a case of lives.
The humor of it is too hot; that is the very plainsong
of it.

Would I were in an alehouse in London!
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Enter Mariana, and Boy singing.

Take, O take those lips away,
 That so sweetly were forsworn,
And those eyes, the break of day,
 Lights that do mislead the morn.Synecdoches
But my kisses bring again, bring again,
 Seals of love, but sealed in vain,
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Pistol
What are his words?
Boy
He prays you to save his life. He is a gentleman of a
good house, and for his ransom he will give you two
hundred crowns.

I did never know so full a voice issue from
so empty a heart. But the saying is true:
“The empty vessel makes the greatest sound.”

Pistol
Tell him my fury shall abate,
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