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. [They sit at the table. Sil. Ah, sirrah! quoth-a, we shall [Sings]

6 Husband, husbandman.

Fal. Away, Bardolph! saddle my horse.Master Robert Shallow, choose what office thou wilt in the land, 't is 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?

131

[Silence falls off his chair.

Fal. Carry Master Silence to bed. [Davy and Servants carry Silence away]--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. Blessed are they that have been my friends, and woe to my lord chief justice!

145

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.

SCENE IV. London. A Street.

Enter Beadles dragging in HOSTESS QUICKLY and DOLL TEARSHEET.

Host. No, thou arrant knave; I would to God that I might die, that I might have thee hang'd: thou hast drawn my shoulder out of joint.

First Bead. The constables have deliver'd her over to me; and she shall have whippingcheer1 enough, I warrant her: there hath been a man or two lately kill'd about her. 7

Doll. Nut-hook, nut-hook, you lie. Come on; I'll tell thee what, [thou damn'd tripevisaged rascal; an the child I now go with do miscarry,] thou hadst better thou hadst struck thy mother, thou paper-fac'd villain.

Host. O the Lord, that Sir John were come! he would make this a bloody day to somebody. [But I pray God the fruit of her womb miscarry!]

First Bead. [If it do, you shall have a dozen of cushions again; you have but eleven now. ] Come, I charge you both go with me; for the man is dead that you and Pistol beat amongst you.

19

Doll. I'll tell you what, you thin man in a censer, I will have you as soundly swing'd for this, you blue-bottle rogue, you filthy famish'd correctioner, if you be not swing'd, I'll forswear half-kirtles.

First Bead. Come, come, you she knighterrant, come.

Host. O God, that right should thus overcome might! Well, of sufferance2 comes ease. Doll. Come, you rogue, come; bring me to a justice.

Host. Ay, come, you starv'd blood-hound. Doll. Goodman death, goodman bones! Host. Thou atomy,3 thou!

30

SCENE V. A Public Place near Westminster Abbey; a concourse of people.

[Enter two Grooms, strewing rushes. First Groom. More rushes, more rushes. Sec. Groom. The trumpets have sounded twice.

First Groom. "T will be two o'clock ere they come from the coronation. Dispatch, dispatch.] [Exeunt.

Enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, PISTOL, BARDOLPH, and Page.

Fal. Stand here by me, Master Robert Shallow; I will make the king do you grace. I will leer upon him as a' comes by; and do but mark the countenance that he will give

So will I those that keep me company.
When thou dost hear I am as I have been,
Approach me, and thou shalt be as thou
wast,

The tutor and the feeder of my riots;

70

Till then, I banish thee, on pain of death,
As I have done the rest of my misleaders,
Not to come near our person by ten mile.
For competence of life I will allow you,
That lack of means enforce you not to evil;
And, as we hear you do reform yourselves,
We will, according to your strengths and
qualities,

Give you advancement.-Be it your charge, my lord,

To see perform'd the tenour of our word.Set on.4 [Exeunt King, &c. Fal. Master Shallow, I owe you a thousand pound.

Shal. Yea, marry, Sir John; which I beseech you to let me have home with me.

80

Fal. That can hardly be, Master Shallow. Do not you grieve at this; I shall be sent for

4 Set on, go on.