behold it? My merry host hath had the measuring of their weapons; and, I think, hath appointed them contrary places; for, believe me, I hear the parson is no jester. Hark, I will tell you what our sport shall be.
They converse apart.
Host
Hast thou no suit against my knight, my guest-cavaliero?
Ford
None, I protest: but I’ll give you a pottle of burnt sack to give me recourse to him, and tell him my name is Brook, only for a jest.
Host
My hand, bully; thou shalt have egress and regress; said I well? and thy name shall be Brook. It is a merry knight. Will you go, mynheers? Going.
Justice Shallow
Have with you, mine host.
Page
I have heard the Frenchman hath good skill in his rapier.
Justice Shallow
Tut, sir! I could have told you more. In these times you stand on distance, your passes, stoccadoes, and I know not what: ’tis the heart, Master Page; ’tis here, ’tis here. I have seen the time with my long sword I would have made you four tall fellows skip like rats.
Host
Calling. Here, boys, here, here! Shall we wag?
Page
Have with you. I had rather hear them scold than fight.
Exeunt Host, Justice Shallow, and Page.
Ford
Though Page be a secure fool, and stands so firmly on his wife’s frailty, yet I cannot put off my opinion so easily. She was in his company at Page’s house, and what they made there I know not. Well, I will look further into’t; and I have a disguise to sound Falstaff. If I find her honest, I lose not my labour; if she be otherwise, ’tis labour well bestowed.
Exit.
Scene II
A room in the Garter Inn.
Enter Falstaff and Pistol. | |
Falstaff | I will not lend thee a penny. |
Pistol |
Why then, the world’s mine oyster, |
Falstaff | Not a penny. I have been content, sir, you should lay my countenance to pawn; I have grated upon my good friends for three reprieves for you and your coach-fellow, Nym; or else you had looked through the grate, like a geminy of baboons. I am damned in hell for swearing to gentlemen my friends you were good soldiers and tall fellows; and when Mistress Bridget lost the handle of her fan, I took’t upon mine honour thou hadst it not. |
Pistol | Didst not thou share? Hadst thou not fifteen pence? |
Falstaff | Reason, you rogue, reason. Thinkest thou I’ll endanger my soul gratis? At a word, hang no more about me, I am no gibbet for you: go: a short knife and a throng!—to your manor of Picht-hatch! go. You’ll not bear a letter for me, you rogue!—you stand upon your honour!—Why, thou unconfinable baseness, it is as much as I can do to keep the terms of my honour precise. I, I, I myself sometimes, leaving the fear of God on the left hand, and hiding mine honour in my necessity, am fain to shuffle, to hedge, and to lurch; and yet you, rogue, will ensconce your rags, your cat-a-mountain looks, your red-lattice phrases, and your bold-beating oaths, under the shelter of your honour! You will not do it, you! |
Pistol | I do relent; what wouldst thou more of man? |
Enter Robin. | |
Robin | Sir, here’s a woman would speak with you. |
Falstaff | Let her approach. |
Enter Mistress Quickly. | |
Mistress Quickly | Curtsies. Give your worship good morrow. |
Falstaff | Good morrow, good wife. |
Mistress Quickly | Not so, an’t please your worship. |
Falstaff | Good maid, then. |
Mistress Quickly |
I’ll be sworn; |
Falstaff | I do believe the swearer. What with me? |
Mistress Quickly | Shall I vouchsafe your worship a word or two? |
Falstaff | Two thousand, fair woman; and I’ll vouchsafe thee the hearing. |
Mistress Quickly | There is one Mistress Ford, glances round at Pistol and Robin sir—I pray, come a little nearer this ways:—I myself dwell with Master Doctor Caius. |
Falstaff | Well, on: Mistress Ford, you say— |
Mistress Quickly | Your worship says very true;—I pray your worship come a little nearer this ways. |
Falstaff | I warrant thee nobody hears waves his hand towards Pistol and Robin—mine own people, mine own people. |
Mistress Quickly | Are they so? God bless them, and make them His servants! |
Falstaff | Well: Mistress Ford, what of her? |
Mistress Quickly | Why, sir, she’s a good creature. Lord, Lord! your worship’s a wanton! Well, heaven forgive you, and all of us, I pray. |
Falstaff | Mistress Ford; come, Mistress Ford— |
Mistress Quickly | Marry, this is the short and the long of it. You have brought her into such a canaries as ’tis wonderful: the best courtier of them all, when the court lay at Windsor, could never have brought her to such a canary; yet there has been knights, and lords, and gentlemen, with their coaches; I warrant you, coach after coach, letter after letter, gift after gift; smelling so sweetly—all musk, and so rushling, I warrant you, in silk and gold; and in such alligant terms; and in such wine and sugar of the best and the fairest, that would have won any woman’s heart; and I warrant you, they could never get an eye-wink of her. I had myself twenty angels given me this morning; but I defy all angels, in any such sort, as they say, but in the way of honesty: and, I warrant you, they could never get her so much as sip on a cup with the proudest of them all; and yet there has been earls, nay, which is more, pensioners; but, I warrant you, all is one with her. |
Falstaff | But what says she to me? be brief, my good she-Mercury. |
Mistress Quickly | Marry, she hath received your letter; for the which she thanks you a thousand times; and she gives you to notify that her husband will be absence from his house between ten and eleven. |
Falstaff | Ten and eleven? |
Mistress Quickly | Ay, forsooth; and then you may come and see the picture, |
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