First my fear, then my curtsy, last my speech.
EPILOGUE
First my fear, then my curtsy, last my speech. My 1
fear is your displeasure, my curtsy my duty, and my 2
speech, to beg your pardons. If you look for a good 3
speech now, you undo me, for what I have to say is 4
of mine own making, and what indeed I should say 5
will, I doubt, prove mine own marring. 6
But to the purpose, and so to the venture. Be it 7
known to you, as it is very well, I was lately here in 8
the end of a displeasing play to pray your patience 9
for it and to promise you a better. I meant indeed to 10
pay you with this, which, if like an ill venture it 11
come unluckily home, I break, and you, my gentle 12
creditors, lose. Here I promised you I would be, 13
and here I commit my body to your mercies. Bate 14
me some, and I will pay you some, and, as most 15
debtors do, promise you infinitely. And so I kneel 16
down before you, but, indeed, to pray for the 17
Queen. 18
If my tongue cannot entreat you to acquit me, 19
will you command me to use my legs? And yet that 20
were but light payment, to dance out of your debt. 21
But a good conscience will make any possible 22
satisfaction, and so would I. All the gentlewomen 23
here have forgiven me; if the gentlemen will not, 24
then the gentlemen do not agree with the gentle- 25
women, which was never seen ⟨before⟩ in such an 26
assembly. 27
One word more, I beseech you: if you be not too 28
much cloyed with fat meat, our humble author will 29
continue the story, with Sir John in it, and make 30
you merry with fair Katherine of France, where, for 31
anything I know, Falstaff shall die of a sweat, unless 32
already he be killed with your hard opinions; for 33
Oldcastle died ⟨a⟩ martyr, and this is not the man. 34
My tongue is weary; when my legs are too, I will bid 35
you good night. 36
