Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry; fill me a bottle of sack. Our
soldiers shall march through; we’ll to Sutton Co’fil’ tonight.
Bardolph, get you before to Coventry; fill me a bottle of sack. Our soldiers shall march through; we’ll to Sutton Co’fil’ tonight.
[Conversational: FALSTAFF]
[Emotional core: FALSTAFF]
Will you give me money, captain?
Will you give me money, captain?
[Conversational: BARDOLPH]
[Emotional core: BARDOLPH]
Lay out, lay out.
Lay out, lay out.
[Conversational: FALSTAFF]
[Emotional core: FALSTAFF]
This bottle makes an angel.
This bottle makes an angel.
[Conversational: BARDOLPH]
[Emotional core: BARDOLPH]
An if it do, take it for thy labour. An if it make twenty, take them
all, I’ll answer the coinage. Bid my lieutenant Peto meet me at town’s
end.
An if it do, take it for your labour. An if it make twenty, take them all, I’ll answer the coinage. Bid my lieutenant Peto meet me at town’s end.
[Conversational: FALSTAFF]
[Emotional core: FALSTAFF]
I will, captain: farewell.
I will, captain: farewell.
[Conversational: BARDOLPH]
[Emotional core: BARDOLPH]
If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am a soused gurnet. I have
misused the King’s press damnably. I have got, in exchange of a hundred
and fifty soldiers, three hundred and odd pounds. I press me none but
good householders, yeomen’s sons, inquire me out contracted bachelors,
such as had been asked twice on the banns, such a commodity of warm
slaves as had as lief hear the devil as a drum, such as fear the report
of a caliver worse than a struck fowl or a hurt wild duck. I pressed me
none but such toasts-and-butter, with hearts in their bellies no bigger
than pins’ heads, and they have bought out their services; and now my
whole charge consists of ancients, corporals, lieutenants, gentlemen of
companies—slaves as ragged as Lazarus in the painted cloth, where the
glutton’s dogs licked his sores; and such as indeed were never
soldiers, but discarded unjust servingmen, younger sons to younger
brothers, revolted tapsters, and ostlers trade-fallen; the cankers of a
calm world and a long peace, ten times more dishonourable-ragged than
an old fazed ancient; and such have I to fill up the rooms of them that
have bought out their services, that you would think that I had a
hundred and fifty tattered prodigals lately come from swine-keeping,
from eating draff and husks. A mad fellow met me on the way, and told
me I had unloaded all the gibbets and pressed the dead bodies. No eye
hath seen such scarecrows. I’ll not march through Coventry with them,
that’s flat. Nay, and the villains march wide betwixt the legs as if
they had gyves on, for indeed I had the most of them out of prison.
There’s not a shirt and a half in all my company, and the half shirt is
two napkins tacked together and thrown over the shoulders like a
herald’s coat without sleeves; and the shirt, to say the truth, stolen
from my host at Saint Albans, or the red-nose innkeeper of Daventry.
But that’s all one; they’ll find linen enough on every hedge.
If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am a soused gurnet. I have misused the King’s press damnably. I have got, in exchange of a hundred and fifty soldiers, three hundred and odd pounds. I press me none but good householders, yeomen’s sons, inquire me out contracted bachelors, such as had been asked twice on the banns, such a commodity of warm slaves as had as lief hear the devil as a drum, such as fear the report of a caliver worse than a struck fowl or a hurt wild duck. I pressed me none but such toasts-and-butter, with hearts in their bellies no bigger than pins’ heads, and they have bought out their services; and now my whole charge consists of ancients, corporals, lieutenants, gentlemen of companies—slaves as ragged as Lazarus in the painted cloth, where the glutton’s dogs licked his sores; and such as indeed were never soldiers, but discarded unjust servingmen, younger sons to younger brothers, revolted tapsters, and ostlers trade-fallen; the cankers of a calm world and a long peace, ten times more dishonourable-ragged than an old fazed ancient; and such have I to fill up the rooms of them that have bought out their services, that you would think that I had a hundred and fifty tattered prodigals lately come from swine-keeping, from eating draff and husks. A mad fellow met me on the way, and told me I had unloaded all the gibbets and pressed the dead bodies. No eye has seen such scarecrows. I’ll not march through Coventry with them, that’s flat. no, and the villains march wide between the legs as if they had gyves on, for indeed I had the most of them out of prison. There’s not a shirt and a half in all my company, and the half shirt is two napkins tacked together and thrown over the shoulders like a herald’s coat without sleeves; and the shirt, to say the truth, stolen from my host at Saint Albans, or the red-nose innkeeper of Daventry. But that’s all one; they’ll find linen enough on every hedge.
[Conversational: FALSTAFF]
[Emotional core: FALSTAFF]
How now, blown Jack? How now, quilt?
How now, blown Jack? How now, quilt?
[Conversational: PRINCE]
[Emotional core: PRINCE]
What, Hal! How now, mad wag? What a devil dost thou in Warwickshire? My
good Lord of Westmoreland, I cry you mercy. I thought your honour had
already been at Shrewsbury.
What, Hal! How now, mad wag? What a devil do you in Warwickshire? My good Lord of Westmoreland, I cry you mercy. I thought your honour had already been at Shrewsbury.
[Conversational: FALSTAFF]
[Emotional core: FALSTAFF]
Faith, Sir John, ’tis more than time that I were there, and you too,
but my powers are there already. The King, I can tell you, looks for us
all. We must away all night.
Faith, Sir John, ’tis more than time that I were there, and you too, but my powers are there already. The King, I can tell you, looks for us all. We must away all night.
[Conversational: WESTMORELAND]
[Emotional core: WESTMORELAND]
Falstaff's account of how he abused the King's press is not a satirical exaggeration — it's a fairly accurate description of how Elizabethan military conscription actually worked. Wealthy men could pay to be exempted; officers kept the money and filled their quotas with whoever was left. The resulting armies were often composed exactly as Falstaff describes: 'discarded unjust serving-men, younger sons to younger brothers, revolted tapsters, and ostlers trade-fallen.' This was recognized as a scandal in Shakespeare's time. The scene works as political commentary: the system of honorable war, celebrated by Hotspur and the King's rhetoric, is built on the bodies of people who had no choice. Falstaff doesn't moralize about this — he's part of the system — which makes his matter-of-fact description more damning, not less.
Tut, never fear me. I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream.
Tut, never fear me. I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream.
[Conversational: FALSTAFF]
[Emotional core: FALSTAFF]
I think, to steal cream indeed, for thy theft hath already made thee
butter. But tell me, Jack, whose fellows are these that come after?
I think, to steal cream indeed, for your theft has already made you butter. But tell me, Jack, whose fellows are these that come after?
[Conversational: PRINCE]
[Emotional core: PRINCE]
Mine, Hal, mine.
Mine, Hal, mine.
[Conversational: FALSTAFF]
[Emotional core: FALSTAFF]
I did never see such pitiful rascals.
I did never see such pitiful rascals.
[Conversational: PRINCE]
[Emotional core: PRINCE]
Tut, tut, good enough to toss; food for powder, food for powder,
they’ll fill a pit as well as better. Tush, man, mortal men, mortal
men.
Tut, tut, good enough to toss; food for powder, food for powder, they’ll fill a pit as well as better. Tush, man, mortal men, mortal men.
[Conversational: FALSTAFF]
[Emotional core: FALSTAFF]
Ay, but, Sir John, methinks they are exceeding poor and bare, too
beggarly.
Ay, but, Sir John, I think they are exceeding poor and bare, too beggarly.
[Conversational: WESTMORELAND]
[Emotional core: WESTMORELAND]
Faith, for their poverty, I know not where they had that; and for their
bareness, I am sure they never learned that of me.
Faith, for their poverty, I know not where they had that; and for their bareness, I am sure they never learned that of me.
[Conversational: FALSTAFF]
[Emotional core: FALSTAFF]
No, I’ll be sworn, unless you call three fingers on the ribs bare. But,
sirrah, make haste. Percy is already in the field.
No, I’ll be sworn, unless you call three fingers on the ribs bare. But, sir, make haste. Percy is already in the field.
[Conversational: PRINCE]
[Emotional core: PRINCE]
What, is the King encamped?
What, is the King encamped?
[Conversational: FALSTAFF]
[Emotional core: FALSTAFF]
He is, Sir John. I fear we shall stay too long.
He is, Sir John. I fear we shall stay too long.
[Conversational: WESTMORELAND]
[Emotional core: WESTMORELAND]
Well,
To the latter end of a fray and the beginning of a feast
Fits a dull fighter and a keen guest.
Well, To the latter end of a fray and the beginning of a feast Fits a dull fighter and a keen guest.
[Conversational: FALSTAFF]
[Emotional core: FALSTAFF]
The Reckoning
The play's sharpest indictment of how war actually works — and Falstaff delivers it without a trace of guilt. His ragged company are men who couldn't afford to bribe their way out of service. 'Food for powder, they'll fill a pit as well as better.' The comedy is black. This is where Falstaff stops being just funny and becomes genuinely troubling.
If this happened today…
A defense contractor shows up to a military briefing with a squad of people who clearly weren't supposed to be there — temps, day laborers, people with missing equipment. When questioned, he explains calmly that the good candidates paid him to go home, and this is who's left. 'Mortal men, mortal men.' He says it without irony.