Falstaff speaks in roiling, tumbling prose — he never stops generating language, always more words, more images, more reasons why the thing he just did was actually virtuous. Watch for how he weaponizes his own self-deprecation: he calls himself old and fat before anyone else can, which disarms the insult. He always finds the philosophical angle that converts his vice into a kind of wisdom.
Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad?
So, Hal, what time of day is it?
Hey Hal, what time is it?
what time now
Hal speaks in two registers: loose, quick-fire prose with the tavern crowd (matching Falstaff wit for wit), and in the closing soliloquy, crisp, cold verse — the language of calculation and kingship. Watch for when he shifts between them; the switch is always meaningful.
Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack, and unbuttoning thee
after supper, and sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou hast
forgotten to demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know. What a
devil hast thou to do with the time of the day? Unless hours were cups
of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials
the signs of leaping-houses, and the blessed sun himself a fair hot
wench in flame-coloured taffeta, I see no reason why thou shouldst be
so superfluous to demand the time of the day.
You're so slow-witted from drinking all that old wine, and unbuttoning yourself after dinner, and sleeping on benches in the afternoon, that you've forgotten to ask what you genuinely want to know. What business do you have with the time of day? Unless hours were glasses of wine, and minutes were chickens to eat, and clocks were the voices of brothel madam, and dials were signs of brothels, and the blessed sun itself were a beautiful hot woman in flame-colored silk, I don't see why you should be so eager to demand what time it is.
You're too drunk and lazy to remember what you actually want to ask. Why do you even care what time it is? It's not like hours are drinks, minutes are food, or clocks are run by ladies of the night. The sun isn't some hot woman in a fancy dress. So why are you so obsessed with knowing what time it is?
ur too drunk to think straight why do u even care about the time lol the sun aint a hot chick
Indeed, you come near me now, Hal, for we that take purses go by the
moon and the seven stars, and not by Phœbus, he, that wand’ring knight
so fair. And I prithee, sweet wag, when thou art king, as God save thy
Grace—Majesty I should say, for grace thou wilt have none—
Actually, you're getting at me now, Hal, because those of us who rob travelers go by the moon and the stars, not by Apollo, that wandering knight who's so handsome. And please, my friend, when you're king, as God save your Royal Majesty—I should say Majesty, since you won't have any grace—
Now you're hitting the mark, Hal, because we robbers work by the moon and stars, not by the sun. And listen, buddy, when you're king—God save your Majesty, though honestly grace is something you'll never have—
ok ok ur right we thieves go by the moon not the sun when ur king.. u gonna be a real jerk tho
What, none?
What, no grace?
What, I won't have any grace?
no grace at all?
No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and
butter.
No, by my word, not enough grace to serve as an introduction to bread and butter.
Not by my word—barely enough grace to introduce a simple meal of bread and butter.
nah bro not even enough 4 bread & butter
Well, how then? Come, roundly, roundly.
Well, how then? Get on with it.
Come on, spit it out.
ok get to it
Marry then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not us that are squires
of the night’s body be called thieves of the day’s beauty: let us be
Diana’s foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon; and let
men say we be men of good government, being governed, as the sea is, by
our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we
steal.
Listen, when you're king, let us who are creatures of the night not be called thieves of the day's beauty. Instead, call us Diana's foresters—gentlemen of the darkness, servants of the moon. Let men say we're well-governed, like the sea, under our noble and chaste mistress the moon, whose favor we steal under.
So when you're king, don't call us thieves—call us moon men, Diana's foresters. Say we're well-governed by the moon, like the sea is. That way we're just doing what the moon tells us to do.
when you're king don't call us thieves call us foresters of the moon servants of the night well-governed by the moon
Thou sayest well, and it holds well too, for the fortune of us that are
the moon’s men doth ebb and flow like the sea, being governed, as the
sea is, by the moon. As for proof now: a purse of gold most resolutely
snatched on Monday night, and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday
morning, got with swearing “Lay by” and spent with crying “Bring in”;
now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder, and by and by in as
high a flow as the ridge of the gallows.
That works perfectly—and it's true, for our luck rises and falls like the sea, governed by the moon. Look: a stolen purse on Monday night, spent recklessly on Tuesday morning, grabbed by saying "Stand and deliver," and scattered by saying "Bring more wine." Now we're at the bottom, as low as the base of the gallows ladder, and soon we'll be at the top—which is also the gallows.
Exactly—our luck does go up and down like the tide, moon-governed. We grab a purse Monday night, blow it Tuesday morning, then we're flat broke, and then we're hanging. That's our high point.
our luck rises and falls like the sea moon-governed we steal monday spend it tuesday then we hit the gallows that's our peak
By the Lord, thou say’st true, lad. And is not my hostess of the tavern
a most sweet wench?
By God, that's the truth. And isn't your hostess at the tavern a beautiful woman?
You're right about that. And hey, isn't the tavern hostess pretty hot?
you're right and the hostess is gorgeous
As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a buff
jerkin a most sweet robe of durance?
Sweet as the honey from Hybla, my old friend of the castle. And isn't a leather jerkin a magnificent robe that lasts forever?
Sweet as honey from that famous place, old guy. And doesn't a leather jerkin last for ages?
sweet as honey leather jacket lasts forever tho
How now, how now, mad wag? What, in thy quips and thy quiddities? What
a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin?
What now, what now, you crazy young man? What, in your clever wordplay and your quibbles? What in the world do I have to do with a leather jerkin?
What's with all the clever jokes, you crazy kid? What's your point about the leather jacket? What's that got to do with me?
why u roasting me about jackets lol what does that even mean
Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern?
Why, what do I have to do with the tavern owner?
And what do I have to do with the tavern keeper?
and what am i doing w the tavern lady
Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a time and oft.
Well, you've asked her to settle her bill many times.
Well, you've made her add up your tab plenty of times.
u ask her 4 the bill all the time tho
Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part?
Have I ever asked you to pay your share?
Did I ever ask you to pay your part of the bill?
did i ever ask u 2 pay
No, I’ll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there.
No, I'll give you credit—you've paid everything there.
No, to be fair, you've covered everything at the tavern.
nah u always pay fair enough
Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch, and where it would
not, I have used my credit.
Yes, and everywhere else too, as far as my money would go, and where it wouldn't go, I've borrowed on credit.
Yeah, and everywhere else I could, and when I ran out of money, I put it on credit.
ya i paid everywhere used ur credit when i ran out
The 'I know you all' soliloquy has divided critics for centuries. The optimistic reading: Hal is a young man with a genuine affection for Falstaff and his friends, who also has a clear-eyed sense of political reality. He knows he will have to become king, and he's buying time. The pessimistic reading: everything we just watched — the warmth, the wit, the apparent companionship — was calculation. Falstaff is a tool. The friendship is performance. What makes Shakespeare's choice extraordinary is that he shows us both: Hal's plan is laid out coldly, but his wit with Falstaff was clearly genuine in the moment. Can those two things be true at once? This tension is never resolved. When Hal eventually banishes Falstaff at the end of Henry IV Part 2 — 'I know thee not, old man' — audiences still debate whether it was inevitable from this moment or a betrayal.
Yea, and so used it that were it not here apparent that thou art heir
apparent—But I prithee sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in
England when thou art king? And resolution thus fubbed as it is with
the rusty curb of old father Antic the law? Do not thou, when thou art
king, hang a thief.
Yes, and you've used it so well that if it weren't obvious that you're going to inherit the throne—But please, my friend, when you're king, will there still be gallows standing in England? And will bold action still be held back by the old stuffy law? Don't hang a thief when you're king.
Yeah, and you used that credit so well that if you weren't clearly going to be king—But listen, when you're king, will there still be executions? Will the law still get in the way? Come on, don't execute thieves when you're in power.
u wasted all that credit btw when ur king no hanging thieves ok
No, thou shalt.
No, you will.
No, you'll be the one hanging them.
nah u will
Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I’ll be a brave judge.
Shall I? Oh, that's wonderful! By God, I'll be a great judge.
Me? Oh, that's amazing! Man, I'll be a fantastic judge.
me?? that'd be awesome i'd be a sick judge
Thou judgest false already, I mean thou shalt have the hanging of the
thieves, and so become a rare hangman.
You're already judging wrong. What I mean is, you'll be in charge of executing the thieves, and so you'll become a famous executioner.
You're already messing up your judgment. I mean you'll be the guy executing the thieves, so you'll become a famous executioner.
lol u already messed up u gonna be a famous hangman tho
Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my humour, as well as
waiting in the court, I can tell you.
Well, Hal, well; and in some ways it fits my nature, just as much as waiting around the royal court, I can tell you.
Well, Hal, honestly, it suits me just fine. Being a hangman is about as good as hanging around the royal court.
honestly sounds about right as good as being at court
For obtaining of suits?
To gain royal favors?
To get favors from the king?
to get royal favors?
Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe.
’Sblood, I am as melancholy as a gib cat or a lugged bear.
Yes, for gaining royal favors, and the hangman has no shortage of clothes from his work. By God, I'm as depressed as a neutered cat or a baited bear.
Yeah, for the royal favors, and the hangman gets plenty of clothes from his victims. Man, I'm as miserable as a neutered cat or a chained bear.
ya the hangman gets paid good im as sad as a fixed cat
Or an old lion, or a lover’s lute.
Or an old lion, or a lover playing a lute.
Or an old lion, or a guy playing a sad love song on a lute.
or an old lion or some dude w a sad lute
Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.
Yes, or the constant drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.
Yeah, or like a bagpipe going on and on and on.
or a bagpipe that wont stop
What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of Moor-ditch?
What would you say to a hare, or the depression of Moor-ditch?
How about comparing me to a hare, or to that sad place Moor-ditch?
or like a sad rabbit or moor-ditch idk
Thou hast the most unsavoury similes, and art indeed the most
comparative, rascalliest, sweet young prince. But, Hal, I prithee
trouble me no more with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew where a
commodity of good names were to be bought. An old lord of the Council
rated me the other day in the street about you, sir, but I marked him
not, and yet he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not, and yet he
talked wisely, and in the street too.
You have the most unpleasant comparisons, and you really are the most talkative, most quarrelsome, sweet young prince. But, Hal, please stop bothering me with these silly games. I wish to God you and I knew where we could buy a supply of good reputations. An old councilman scolded me the other day in the street about you, sir, but I didn't pay attention to him, and yet he spoke very wisely, but I didn't listen to him, and yet he spoke wisely, and right there in the street too.
You've got some seriously weird comparisons, and honestly you're the most talkative, most annoying young prince around. But Hal, seriously, stop with the games. I wish we could just buy some good reputations somewhere. Some old guy from the council yelled at me the other day in the street about you, but I wasn't listening. Although he was right. Well, he was talking sense, but I still didn't care, and he was doing it right there in public.
ur comparisons are weird asf stop messing w me bro wish i could buy a good name this old guy yelled @ me about u in the street lol
Thou didst well, for wisdom cries out in the streets and no man regards
it.
You did well, because wisdom calls out loudly everywhere, and no one pays attention to it.
You were smart to ignore him, because good advice is everywhere and nobody listens anyway.
good call wisdom is everywhere & nobody cares
O, thou hast damnable iteration, and art indeed able to corrupt a
saint. Thou hast done much harm upon me, Hal, God forgive thee for it.
Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing, and now am I, if a man should
speak truly, little better than one of the wicked. I must give over
this life, and I will give it over. By the Lord, an I do not, I am a
villain. I’ll be damned for never a king’s son in Christendom.
Oh, you repeat yourself in such a way that's damnable, and you're able to corrupt even a saint. You've done terrible things to me, Hal—God forgive you for it. Before I knew you, Hal, I knew nothing, and now, if someone tells the truth about it, I'm little better than one of the wicked. I must give up this life, and I will give it up. By God, if I don't, I'm a criminal. I'll be damned if I break my promise, just for the sake of any king's son in Christendom.
Man, you know how to repeat yourself in the worst way, and you could corrupt anyone, even a saint. You've hurt me, Hal—and I hope God forgives you. Before you, I was nothing, and now I'm barely better than a criminal. I've got to stop this life, and I mean it. If I don't, I'm scum. I swear I won't break this promise, not for any prince in the world.
u corrupt everyone u ruined me hal i was good b4 u now im basically a criminal i gotta change or im damned fr
Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack?
Where should we rob someone tomorrow, Jack?
Jack, where we hitting tomorrow?
where we robbing tmrw jack
Zounds, where thou wilt, lad, I’ll make one. An I do not, call me
villain and baffle me.
By God, wherever you want, boy, I'll be there. If I'm not, call me a criminal and publicly humiliate me.
Hell yeah, wherever you want, I'll be in. If I'm not there, you can call me out as a coward.
hell ya anywhere ill be there or im a coward
I see a good amendment of life in thee, from praying to purse-taking.
I see a real improvement in your life, from praying to robbing.
Wow, that's quite a turnaround—from praying to stealing.
wow great improvement from prayer to robbing lol
Why, Hal, ’tis my vocation, Hal, ’tis no sin for a man to labour in his
vocation.
Why, Hal, it's my calling—it's no sin for a man to work at his calling.
Well, Hal, it's my job. There's nothing wrong with a guy doing his work.
its my job hal nothing wrong w that
It's a strong case. Falstaff arrived on stage in 1597 and was immediately an enormous popular hit — Shakespeare even brings him back (implausibly) in The Merry Wives of Windsor because audiences demanded it. What makes him so enduring? He represents a philosophy of embodied, present-tense pleasure that stands as a genuine alternative to the play's obsession with honor, kingship, and political calculation. His argument — that life, sack, warmth, and laughter are worth more than the abstract 'honour' the nobles are dying for — is not mere cowardice. It's a coherent worldview. And he delivers it with more wit than anyone else on stage. Keep watching: every time the play starts to take honour too seriously, Falstaff arrives to deflate it. His most famous speech on the subject is coming in Act 5.
Poins!—Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a match. O, if men were
to be saved by merit, what hole in hell were hot enough for him? This
is the most omnipotent villain that ever cried “Stand!” to a true man.
Poins! Now we'll find out if Gadshill has arranged a robbery. If people were saved by their goodness, what part of hell would be hot enough for him? He's the greatest villain ever to command a traveler to stop and surrender.
Poins! Now we'll see if Gadshill set up a heist. Honestly, that guy's so bad, there's no pit in hell hot enough for him. The worst criminal ever to rob someone.
poins! if gadshill set this up he's the vilest guy ever
Good morrow, Ned.
Good morning, Ned.
Hey Ned, good morning.
hey ned morning
Poins is quick, practical, conspiratorial — the enabler who delights in plots. His pleasure is in the scheme itself, not the money. Watch for how he functions as a go-between: he's the one who can move between Hal's world and Falstaff's without fully belonging to either.
Good morrow, sweet Hal.—What says Monsieur Remorse? What says Sir John
Sack-and-sugar? Jack, how agrees the devil and thee about thy soul,
that thou soldest him on Good Friday last for a cup of Madeira and a
cold capon’s leg?
Good morning, sweet Hal. What does this remorseful one say? What does this wine-soaked gentleman say? Jack, how's your deal going with the devil? You sold your soul to him on Good Friday for a glass of wine and a cold chicken leg?
Morning, Hal. So what's our guilty friend here saying? What about you, you wine-drinking guy? Jack, what's the deal with the devil? Did you really sell your soul to him on Good Friday just for a drink and some leftover chicken?
yo hal morning what's guilty jack saying did u really sell ur soul 2 the devil for wine & chicken lol
Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have his bargain, for he
was never yet a breaker of proverbs. He will give the devil his due.
Jack keeps his word, so the devil will get his bargain, because he's never broken a promise. He'll give the devil what he owes.
Jack's good for his word, so the devil will get what's coming to him, because he never breaks a promise. He'll pay what he owes.
jack keeps his word devil gets what he's owed no cap
Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil.
Then you're damned for keeping your promise to the devil.
Then you're damned for being honest with the devil.
ur damned 4 being honest w the devil
Else he had been damned for cozening the devil.
Otherwise he would have been damned for cheating the devil.
If he'd broken his word and cheated the devil, he'd be damned for that instead.
or he'd be damned for scamming the devil
But, my lads, my lads, tomorrow morning, by four o’clock early at Gad’s
Hill, there are pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and
traders riding to London with fat purses. I have visards for you all;
you have horses for yourselves. Gadshill lies tonight in Rochester. I
have bespoke supper tomorrow night in Eastcheap. We may do it as secure
as sleep. If you will go, I will stuff your purses full of crowns. If
you will not, tarry at home and be hanged.
But, my friends, my friends, tomorrow morning at four o'clock sharp at Gad's Hill, there are religious pilgrims traveling to Canterbury with expensive gifts, and merchants riding to London with full money pouches. I have masks for all of you; you have horses for yourselves. Gadshill will sleep in Rochester tonight. I've arranged supper tomorrow night in Eastcheap. We can do this as easily as falling asleep. If you'll go, I'll fill your wallets with gold. If you won't, stay home and be hanged.
Listen guys, tomorrow morning at four o'clock at Gad's Hill, there'll be pilgrims heading to Canterbury with money and gifts, and merchants going to London with heavy purses. I've got masks for everyone, and you've got horses. Gadshill's staying in Rochester tonight. I've booked us supper tomorrow night in Eastcheap. It'll be a piece of cake. If you come, I'll fill your pockets with gold. If you don't, you might as well hang yourself.
tmrw @ 4am gads hill pilgrims w $ & merchants i got masks 4 all of u we feast in eastcheap come & ill pay u in gold stay home & ur dead
Hear ye, Yedward, if I tarry at home and go not, I’ll hang you for
going.
Listen, Edward, if I stay home and don't go, I'll hang you for going.
Edward, buddy, if you go without me, I'll execute you for it.
edward if i stay home & u go ill kill u
You will, chops?
You will, fatty?
You'll hang me, fatso?
u gonna hang me fatso
Hal, wilt thou make one?
Hal, will you join in?
Hal, you in or what?
hal u coming
Who, I rob? I a thief? Not I, by my faith.
Me, rob? Me, a thief? No, not I, by my word.
Me, steal? Me, a criminal? No way, I swear.
me steal?? nah fr
There’s neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee, nor thou
cam’st not of the blood royal, if thou darest not stand for ten
shillings.
There's no honesty, manhood, or good friendship in you, and you're not of royal blood if you won't risk money for a good cause.
You're not honest, you're not a man, you're not a good friend, and you're not royal if you won't even rob for a little bit of money.
ur not a man if u wont rob not honest not royal blood
Well then, once in my days I’ll be a madcap.
Well then, just this once I'll act crazy.
Okay fine, just this one time I'll go wild.
fine ill do it once thats it tho
Why, that’s well said.
Now that's good sense.
Now that's what I like to hear.
thats what i wanna hear
Well, come what will, I’ll tarry at home.
Well, come what may, I'll stay home.
Well, whatever happens, I'm staying home.
nah im staying home no matter what
By the Lord, I’ll be a traitor then, when thou art king.
By God, I'll be a traitor when you're king.
Man, I'll be a traitor to you when you're king.
ill be a traitor when ur king
The highway robbery plot seems morally alarming — and is — but Shakespeare places it in a register of pure comic performance from the start. The targets are rich merchants, not poor people. The double-cross is announced before the robbery happens, so the audience always knows Hal is running the show. Most importantly, no one is hurt. The scene's function is to set up Act 2 Scene 4, the Boar's Head scene, where Falstaff's lies about the robbery escalate in number and grandeur until they become their own kind of art. The robbery isn't a moral test — it's the setup for one of the best theatrical comic sequences Shakespeare ever wrote. The real crime is the fun of it.
I care not.
I don't care.
I don't care.
dont care
Sir John, I prithee, leave the Prince and me alone. I will lay him down
such reasons for this adventure, that he shall go.
Sir John, I'm asking you, leave the Prince alone with me. I'll give him reasons for this adventure that will convince him to go.
Sir John, come on, let me talk to the Prince alone. I'll convince him to come along.
leave us alone jack ill get him 2 come
Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion, and him the ears of
profiting, that what thou speakest may move, and what he hears may be
believed, that the true prince may, for recreation sake, prove a false
thief, for the poor abuses of the time want countenance. Farewell, you
shall find me in Eastcheap.
Well, may God give you the gift of persuasion, and him the ability to listen and learn, so that what you say will move him and what he hears will stick with him. That way, the real prince can pretend to be a fake thief for fun, since dishonest people need support. See you in Eastcheap.
Well, I hope God gives you the power to convince him and him the brains to listen, so he actually hears you. That way our real prince can play at being a criminal for laughs, since the world needs criminals. I'll see you in Eastcheap.
god bless ur words hope he listens prince as fake thief wild times see u in eastcheap
Farewell, thou latter spring! Farewell, All-hallown summer!
Goodbye, you late-blooming old man! Goodbye, you false summer!
Bye, old man trying to act young! Bye, you fake nice weather!
bye old man bye fake spring lol
Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us tomorrow. I have a jest to
execute that I cannot manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto, and
Gadshill shall rob those men that we have already waylaid. Yourself and
I will not be there. And when they have the booty, if you and I do not
rob them, cut this head off from my shoulders.
Now, my good sweet lord, ride with us tomorrow. I have a trick I can't pull off alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto, and Gadshill will rob those men we've already set up for ambush. You and I won't be there. And when they get the money, if you and I don't rob them, cut off my head.
Come on, buddy, ride with us tomorrow. I've got a prank I can't do by myself. Falstaff and the others will rob these guys we've already lined up. You and I won't be there. When they get the cash, we rob them. If we don't, you can behead me.
ride w us tmrw i got a plan falstaff robs them first we rob falstaff after lol or cut my head off
But how shall we part with them in setting forth?
But how will we separate from them when we ride out?
But how do we split up from them when we head out?
how we separate from them tho
Why, we will set forth before or after them, and appoint them a place
of meeting, wherein it is at our pleasure to fail; and then will they
adventure upon the exploit themselves, which they shall have no sooner
achieved but we’ll set upon them.
Well, we'll ride off before or after them, and we'll tell them a place to meet, where we can choose not to show up. Then they'll go ahead with the robbery on their own, and as soon as they're done, we'll attack them.
Easy. We'll ride ahead or behind them, and we'll pick a meeting spot that we might not make. Then they'll do the robbery by themselves, and once they've got the money, we hit them.
we ride ahead of them tell them 2 meet us we dont show up lol they rob ppl we rob them
Yea, but ’tis like that they will know us by our horses, by our habits,
and by every other appointment, to be ourselves.
Yes, but it's likely that they'll recognize us by our horses, by our clothes, and by everything else about us.
Yeah, but they'll definitely recognize us by our horses, our outfits, and everything else.
but theyll know us our horses our clothes
Tut, our horses they shall not see, I’ll tie them in the wood; our
visards we will change after we leave them; and, sirrah, I have cases
of buckram for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments.
Listen, they won't see our horses—I'll tie them up in the woods. We'll change our masks after we leave them. And listen, I have canvas jackets for this purpose to hide our nice clothes.
No way—I'll hide the horses in the woods. We'll change disguises after we split. Plus I've got canvas covers to hide our regular outfits.
horses in woods change masks later i got canvas covers to hide our clothes
Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for us.
Yes, but I think they'll be too much for us.
Yeah, but I'm worried they'll be too strong for us.
but theyre tougher than us
Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true-bred cowards as ever
turned back; and for the third, if he fight longer than he sees reason,
I’ll forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be the
incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will tell us when we
meet at supper: how thirty at least he fought with, what wards, what
blows, what extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this lives
the jest.
Well, I know for certain that two of them are total cowards—they always run away. As for the third, if he fights for longer than it makes sense to, I'll give up fighting altogether. The great thing about this trick will be the crazy lies this fat guy will tell us when we meet for dinner: how at least thirty men he fought, what moves, what hits, what terrible things he suffered. The joke is really in listening to him tell these lies.
Look, I know two of them are pure cowards—they'll bail immediately. And the third one, if he fights harder than he should, I'll just quit. The funny part will be all the crazy stories this fat guy tells us at dinner about fighting like thirty guys. That's where the real joke is—hearing him lie through his teeth.
two of em r cowards they gonna run fat guy gonna lie at dinner about fighting 30 men that'll be funny asf
Well, I’ll go with thee. Provide us all things necessary and meet me
tomorrow night in Eastcheap; there I’ll sup. Farewell.
Okay, I'll go with you. Get everything we need and meet me tomorrow night in Eastcheap. I'll be there for dinner. Goodbye.
Alright, I'm in. Get everything ready and meet me tomorrow night in Eastcheap. I'll be there. Later.
ok ill come get everything ready meet me eastcheap tmrw im eating there bye
Farewell, my lord.
Goodbye, my lord.
Goodbye, sir.
bye lord
I know you all, and will awhile uphold
The unyok’d humour of your idleness.
Yet herein will I imitate the sun,
Who doth permit the base contagious clouds
To smother up his beauty from the world,
That, when he please again to be himself,
Being wanted, he may be more wonder’d at,
By breaking through the foul and ugly mists
Of vapours that did seem to strangle him.
If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work;
But, when they seldom come, they wish’d-for come,
And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.
So when this loose behaviour I throw off,
And pay the debt I never promised,
By how much better than my word I am,
By so much shall I falsify men’s hopes;
And, like bright metal on a sullen ground,
My reformation, glitt’ring o’er my fault,
Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes
Than that which hath no foil to set it off.
I’ll so offend, to make offence a skill,
Redeeming time, when men think least I will.
I know all of you, and I'll allow for a while Your wild, free way of living. Yet I will imitate the sun, Who lets the dirty clouds cover His beauty from the world, So that when he chooses to show himself again, Being missed, he'll be more admired, Breaking through the foul ugly mist Of vapor that seemed to choke him. If every day were a holiday, Playing would become as boring as work; But since holidays come seldom, we wish for them, And we only enjoy what's rare and special. So when I throw off this loose way of living And pay back the debt I never promised, By being much better than my word, I'll disappoint all expectations; And like bright metal on dark ground, My change, shining above my fault, Will look better and catch more eyes Than something with nothing to make it stand out. I'll do wrong things so carefully that badness becomes an art, Reclaiming my time, when people least expect it.
I know all of you, and I'm going to let you guys keep living wild for a bit. But I'm going to be like the sun—I'll let clouds cover up my shine for a while. But when I decide to show up for real, I'll be even more impressive because I've been gone. Breaking through all that ugly fog will make me stand out even more. Here's the thing: if every day was a party, partying would suck as much as working. But because holidays are rare, we want them. Same with me. When I finally give up being a loser and start acting like I'm supposed to, I'll surprise everyone. It'll be like shiny metal on a dark background—my improvement will look way better than if I'd never been bad. I'm going to be so good at what I do that people will forget I was ever bad. I'll make my comeback when you least expect it.
i see u all doing ur thing im gonna chill w it 4 now but im like the sun hiding behind clouds when i come back out ill shine brighter bad days make good days better when i fix myself everyone gonna be shocked its all part of the plan trust
The Reckoning
This is the scene that establishes the entire engine of the play: Falstaff's irreducible, life-celebrating charm, and Hal's deeply unsettling coolness beneath it. The wit exchanges crackle — this is the most purely enjoyable scene in the play — but Hal's closing soliloquy sends a chill backwards through everything we just watched. He has been calculating this whole time. The audience is left both delighted and a little queasy.
If this happened today…
The heir to a massive family corporation has been spotted at dive bars and low-stakes poker nights for years, and the financial press is dragging him mercilessly. His college roommate — a brilliant, fat, cheerful career gambler who somehow makes everything funnier — calls asking about a 'business opportunity' involving some misdirected funds. They joke for twenty minutes and the heir agrees to join in. Then the roommate leaves, and the heir says, directly to camera: 'I know exactly what I'm doing. The worse my reputation gets, the more spectacular the turnaround will look. I'm building a narrative.' His face, at that moment, is not fully likable.