Gloucestershire. The Garden of SHALLOW'S House. |
|
Enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, SILENCE, BARDOLPH, the Page, and DAVY. |
Shal. Nay, you shall see mine orchard, where, in an arbour, we will eat a last year's pippin of my own graffing, with a dish of caraways, and so forth; come, cousin Silence; and then to bed. |
Fal. 'Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling, and a rich. |
Shal. Barren, barren, barren; beggars all, beggars all, Sir John: marry, good air. Spread, Davy; spread, Davy: well said, Davy. |
Fal. This Davy serves you for good uses; he is your serving-man and your husband. |
Shal. A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good varlet, Sir John: by the mass, I have drunk too much sack at supper: a good varlet. Now sit down, now sit down. Come, cousin. |
Sil. Ah, sirrah! quoth a', we shall | Do nothing but eat, and make good cheer, |
| And praise God for the merry year; |
| When flesh is cheap and females dear, |
| And lusty lads roam here and there, |
| So merrily. |
| And ever among so merrily. |
|
Fal. There's a merry heart! Good Master Silence, I'll give you a health for that anon. |
Shal. Give Master Bardolph some wine, Davy. |
Davy. Sweet sir, sit; I'll be with you anon: most sweet sir, sit. Master page, good master page, sit. Proface! What you want in meat we'll have in drink: but you must bear: the heart's all. [Exit. |
Shal. Be merry, Master Bardolph; and my little soldier there, be merry. |
Sil. | Be merry, be merry, my wife has all: |
| For women are shrews, both short and tall: |
| 'Tis merry in hall when beards wag all, |
| And welcome merry Shrove-tide. |
| Be merry, be merry. |
|
Fal. I did not think Master Silence had been a man of this mettle. |
Sil. Who, I? I have been merry twice and once ere now. |
|
Re-enter DAVY. |
Davy. There's a dish of leather-coats for you. [Setting them before BARDOLPH. |
Shal. Davy! |
Davy. Your worship! I'll be with you straight. |
A cup of wine, sir? |
Sil. A cup of wine that's brisk and fine |
And drink unto the leman mine; |
And a merry heart lives long-a. |
Fal. Well said, Master Silence. |
Sil. And we shall be merry, now comes in the sweet o' the night. |
Fal. Health and long life to you, Master Silence. |
Sil. Fill the cup, and let it come; |
I'll pledge you a mile to the bottom. |
Shal. Honest Bardolph, welcome: if thou wantest anything and wilt not call, beshrew thy heart. [To the Page.] Welcome, my little tiny thief; and welcome indeed too. I'll drink to Master Bardolph and to all the cavaleiroes about London. |
Davy. I hope to see London once ere I die. |
Bard. An I might see you there, Davy,— |
Shal. By the mass, you'll crack a quart together: ha! will you not, Master Bardolph? |
Bard. Yea, sir, in a pottle-pot. |
Shal. By God's liggens, I thank thee. The knave will stick by thee, I can assure thee that: a' will not out; he is true bred. |
Bard. And I'll stick by him, sir. |
Shal. Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing: be merry. [Knocking within.] Look who's at door there. Ho! who knocks? [Exit DAVY. |
Fal. [To SILENCE, who drinks a bumper.] |
Why, now you have done me right. |
Sil. | Do me right, |
| And dub me knight: |
| Samingo. |
|
Is't not so? |
Fal. 'Tis so. |
Sil. Is't so? Why, then, say an old man can do somewhat. |
|
Re-enter DAVY. |
Davy. An't please your worship, there's one |
Pistol come from the court with news. |
Fal. From the court! let him come in. |
|
Enter PISTOL. |
How now, Pistol! |
Pist. Sir John, God save you, sir! |
Fal. What wind blew you hither, Pistol? |
Pist. Not the ill wind which blows no man to good. |
Sweet knight, thou art now one of the greatest men in this realm. |
Sil. By'r lady, I think a' be, but goodman |
Puff of Barson. |
Pist. Puff! |
Puff in thy teeth, most recreant coward base! |
Sir John, I am thy Pistol and thy friend, |
And helter-skelter have I rode to thee, |
And tidings do I bring and lucky joys |
And golden times and happy news of price. |
Fal. I prithee now, deliver them like a man of this world. |
Pist. A foutra for the world and worldlings base! |
I speak of Africa and golden joys. |
Fal. O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news? |
Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof. |
Sil. And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John. |
Pist. Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons? |
And shall good news be baffled? |
Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies' lap. |
Shal. Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding. |
Pist. Why then, lament therefore. |
Shal. Give me pardon, sir: if, sir, you come with news from the court, I take it there is but two ways: either to utter them, or to conceal them. I am, sir, under the king, in some authority. |
Pist. Under which king, Bezonian? speak, or die. |
Shal. Under King Harry. |
Pist. Harry the Fourth? or Fifth? |
Shal. Harry the Fourth. |
Pist. A foutra for thine office! |
Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is king; |
Harry the Fifth's the man. I speak the truth: |
When Pistol lies, do this; and fig me, like |
The bragging Spaniard. |
Fal. What! is the old king dead? |
Pist. As nail in door: the things I speak are just. |
Fal. Away, Bardolph! saddle my horse. Master Robert Shallow, choose what office thou wilt in the land, 'tis thine. Pistol, I will double-charge thee with dignities. |
Bard. O joyful day! |
I would not take a knighthood for my fortune. |
Pist. What! I do bring good news. |
Fal. Carry Master Silence to bed. Master Shallow, my Lord Shallow, be what thou wilt, I am Fortune's steward. Get on thy boots: we'll ride all night. O sweet Pistol! Away, Bardolph! [Exit BARDOLPH.] Come, Pistol, utter more to me; and, withal devise something to do thyself good. Boot, boot, Master Shallow: I know the young king is sick for me. Let us take any man's horses; the laws of England are at my commandment. Happy are they which have been my friends, and woe unto my lord chief justice! |
Pist. Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also! |
'Where is the life that late I led?' say they: |
Why, here it is: welcome these pleasant days! [Exeunt. |
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