:21:00
Lord!
:21:02
My heart bleeds inwardly
that my father is so sick.
:21:07
Sir John, thou art so fat, that
I dare say thou wilt last not.
:21:11
There you are!
:21:14
- Around, I mighst be...
- Two yards, or more.
:21:18
Round the waist, about the same.
I speak not of plentyfulness...
:21:22
...but of sorrows.
:21:26
I shall have to sack some of
mine. There art no other way.
:21:30
I shall take Bardolph,
he shall pour for me.
:21:34
That be a pleasant task.
:21:39
Lads...
:21:43
...I am left penniless.
:21:46
Doll...
:21:49
Is that all the comfort you
give me?
:21:52
Who knock'st on the door thus?
:21:55
- You muddy raskal!
- You make fat raskals.
:21:59
I make them not, gluttony
and diseases make them.
:22:03
If the cook help to make the
gluttony...
:22:05
...you help to the diseases.
Those we catch of you.
:22:10
To come of the breach with his
pike bent bravely...
:22:15
...to venture upon the charged
chamber bravely...
:22:20
Hang yourself, you
muddy conger!
:22:24
You two never meet, but
you fall to some discord.
:22:27
You art both as gouty
as dry toasts.
:22:34
You have drunk too much
Canaries, good wine.
:22:39
- How art thou?
- Better than before.
:22:42
Well said.
:22:44
Thy goodness, shines as gold.
:22:48
What the good year, one must
bear, and that must be you.
:22:53
Sir, Pistol would speak
with you.
:22:55
Pistol?
:22:58
It is the foul-mouth'dst
rogue in England!