Act V, Scene iii

[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 mine 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 anything 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 hope 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.:

Do me right,

[Singing.]

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.

SHALLOW.:

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

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.]