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Enter HENRY, PRINCE of Wales, and Sir John FALSTAFF
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HENRY, PRINCE of Wales and Sir John FALSTAFF enter.
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FALSTAFF Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad?
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FALSTAFF Hal, what time is it, my boy?
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PRINCE HENRY 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-colored taffeta, I see no
reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand the
time of the day.
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PRINCE HENRY You are so wasted from drinking booze and loosening your pants after lunch and sleeping on benches all afternoon that you don’t even remember how to ask for what you really want to know. What the hell does it matter to you what time it is? Unless hours were glasses of wine, minutes were chickens, clocks were whores' tongues, sundials were whorehouse signs and the sun itself were a hot woman in a flame-colored dress, I don’t see any reason why you would need to know the time.
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FALSTAFF Indeed, you come near me now, Hal, for we that take purses
go by the moon and the seven stars, and not by Phoebus,
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—
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FALSTAFF Now you’re talking, Hal. Thieves like us operate at night, by the moon and stars, and not by the sun. I hope, pretty boy, that when you become king, God save your Grace—or maybe I should just call you “Your Majesty,” since you don’t have any grace—
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PRINCE HENRY What, none?
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PRINCE HENRY None?
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FALSTAFF No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to be prologue
to an egg and butter.
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FALSTAFF No, I swear. Not even enough to say grace before a snack.
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PRINCE HENRY
20Well, how then? Come, roundly, roundly.
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PRINCE HENRY Come on, out with it. Get to the point.
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FALSTAFF 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.
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FALSTAFF Okay then, pretty boy. Whey you become king, don’t let those of us who work at night be blamed for wasting daylight by sleeping through it. Give us fancy names: “Servants of the Moon Goddess Diana;” “Gentlemen of Shadows;” “Lunar Laborers.” Make people admire us for being well behaved. After all, we’re governed by the same force that governs the tides—the pale and cool moon, who lights our way as we sneak around.
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