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    Act 5. Scene III

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    Chapter 18
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    SCENE III. Gloucestershire. SHALLOW'S orchard.

    Enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, SILENCE, DAVY, BARDOLPH, and the Page
    SHALLOW
    Nay, you shall see my 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.

    FALSTAFF
    'Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling and a rich.

    SHALLOW
    Barren, barren, barren; beggars all, beggars all,
    Sir John: marry, good air. Spread, Davy; spread,
    Davy; well said, Davy.

    FALSTAFF
    This Davy serves you for good uses; he is your
    serving-man and your husband.

    SHALLOW
    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.

    SILENCE
    Ah, sirrah! quoth-a, we shall
    Do nothing but eat, and make good cheer,

    Singing

    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.

    FALSTAFF
    There's a merry heart! Good Master Silence, I'll
    give you a health for that anon.

    SHALLOW
    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

    SHALLOW
    Be merry, Master Bardolph; and, my little soldier
    there, be merry.

    SILENCE
    Be merry, be merry, my wife has all;

    Singing

    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.

    FALSTAFF
    I did not think Master Silence had been a man of
    this mettle.

    SILENCE
    Who, I? I have been merry twice and once ere now.

    Re-enter DAVY

    DAVY
    There's a dish of leather-coats for you.

    To BARDOLPH

    SHALLOW
    Davy!

    DAVY
    Your worship! I'll be with you straight.

    To BARDOLPH

    A cup of wine, sir?

    SILENCE
    A cup of wine that's brisk and fine,

    Singing

    And drink unto the leman mine;
    And a merry heart lives long-a.

    FALSTAFF
    Well said, Master Silence.

    SILENCE
    An we shall be merry, now comes in the sweet o' the night.

    FALSTAFF
    Health and long life to you, Master Silence.

    SILENCE
    Fill the cup, and let it come;

    Singing

    I'll pledge you a mile to the bottom.

    SHALLOW
    Honest Bardolph, welcome: if thou wantest any
    thing, and wilt not call, beshrew thy heart.
    Welcome, my little tiny thief.

    To the Page

    And welcome indeed too. I'll drink to Master
    Bardolph, and to all the cavaleros about London.

    DAVY
    I hove to see London once ere I die.

    BARDOLPH
    An I might see you there, Davy,--

    SHALLOW
    By the mass, you'll crack a quart together, ha!
    Will you not, Master Bardolph?

    BARDOLPH
    Yea, sir, in a pottle-pot.

    SHALLOW
    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.

    BARDOLPH
    And I'll stick by him, sir.

    SHALLOW
    Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing: be merry.

    Knocking within

    Look who's at door there, ho! who knocks?

    Exit DAVY

    FALSTAFF
    Why, now you have done me right.

    To SILENCE, seeing him take off a bumper

    SILENCE
    [Singing]
    Do me right,
    And dub me knight: Samingo.
    Is't not so?

    FALSTAFF
    'Tis so.

    SILENCE
    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.

    FALSTAFF
    From the court! let him come in.

    Enter PISTOL

    How now, Pistol!

    PISTOL
    Sir John, God save you!

    FALSTAFF
    What wind blew you hither, Pistol?

    PISTOL
    Not the ill wind which blows no man to good. Sweet
    knight, thou art now one of the greatest men in this realm.

    SILENCE
    By'r lady, I think a' be, but goodman Puff of Barson.

    PISTOL
    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.

    FALSTAFF
    I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of this world.

    PISTOL
    A foutre for the world and worldlings base!
    I speak of Africa and golden joys.

    FALSTAFF
    O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news?
    Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof.

    SILENCE
    And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John.

    Singing

    PISTOL
    Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons?
    And shall good news be baffled?
    Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies' lap.

    SILENCE
    Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding.

    PISTOL
    Why then, lament therefore.

    SHALLOW
    Give me pardon, sir: if, sir, you come with news
    from the court, I take it there's but two ways,
    either to utter them, or to conceal them. I am,
    sir, under the king, in some authority.

    PISTOL
    Under which king, Besonian? speak, or die.

    SHALLOW
    Under King Harry.

    PISTOL
    Harry the Fourth? or Fifth?

    SHALLOW
    Harry the Fourth.

    PISTOL
    A foutre 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.

    FALSTAFF
    What, is the old king dead?

    PISTOL
    As nail in door: the things I speak are just.

    FALSTAFF
    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.

    BARDOLPH
    O joyful day!
    I would not take a knighthood for my fortune.

    PISTOL
    What! I do bring good news.

    FALSTAFF
    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. Blessed are they that have been my
    friends; and woe to my lord chief-justice!

    PISTOL
    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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