| Gloucestershire. SHALLOW’S orchard. 
 Enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, SILENCE, DAVY, BARDOLPH, and the PAGE 
    SHALLOWNay, 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.
 
    SHALLOWBarren, barren, barren; beggars all, beggars all, Sir John:—marry, good air.—Spread, Davy; spread, Davy; well said, Davy.
 
    FALSTAFFThis Davy serves you for good uses; he is your serving-man and your husband.
 
    SHALLOWA 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.
 
    SILENCEAh, 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.
 
    FALSTAFFThere’s a merry heart!—Good Master Silence, I’ll give you a health for that anon.
 
    SHALLOWGive Master Bardolph some wine, Davy.
 
    DAVYSweet 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 
    SHALLOWBe merry, Master Bardolph; and, my little soldier there, be merry.
 
    SILENCEBe 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.
 
    FALSTAFFI did not think Master Silence had been a man
of this mettle.
 
    SILENCEWho, I? I have been merry twice and once ere now.
 
 Re-enter DAVY 
    DAVYThere’s a dish of leather-coats for you.
[To BARDOLPH]
 
    SHALLOWDavy!
 
    DAVYYour worship! I’ll be with you straight.
 [To BARDOLPH] A cup of wine, sir?
 
    SILENCEA cup of wine that’s brisk and fine,
 [Singing]And drink unto the leman mine; And a merry heart lives long-a.
 
    FALSTAFFWell said, Master Silence.
 
    SILENCEAn we shall be merry,—now comes in the sweet o’ the night.
 
    FALSTAFFHealth and long life to you, Master Silence.
 
    SILENCEFill the cup, and let it come;
 [Singing]I’ll pledge you a mile to the bottom. 
    SHALLOWHonest Bardolph, welcome: if thou wantest any thing, and wilt not call, beshrew thy heart.—Welcome, my little tiny thief.
 To the PAGEAnd welcome indeed too.—I’ll drink to Master Bardolph, and to all the cavaleros about London. 
    DAVYI hope to see London once ere I die.
 
    BARDOLPHAn I might see you there, Davy,—
 
    SHALLOWBy the mass, you’ll crack a quart together,—ha! Will you not, Master Bardolph?
 
    BARDOLPHYea, sir, in a pottle-pot.
 
    SHALLOWBy God’s liggens, I thank thee:—the knave will stick by thee, I can assure thee that. He will not out; he is true bred.
 
    BARDOLPHAnd I’ll stick by him, sir.
 
    SHALLOWWhy, there spoke a king. Lack nothing: be merry.
 Knocking withinLook who’s at door there, ho! who knocks? 
 [Exit Davy 
    FALSTAFFWhy, 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.
 
    SILENCEIs’t so? Why then, say an old man can do somewhat.
 
 Re-enter DAVY 
    DAVYAn’t please your worship, there’s one Pistol come from the court with news.
 
    FALSTAFFFrom the court! let him come in.
 Enter PISTOLHow now, Pistol! 
    PISTOLSir John, God save you!
 
    FALSTAFFWhat wind blew you hither, Pistol?
 
    PISTOLNot the ill wind which blows no man to good.—Sweet knight, thou art now one of the greatest men in this realm.
 
    SILENCEBy’r lady, I think he be, but goodman Puff of Barson.
 
    PISTOLPuff!
 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.
 
    FALSTAFFI pray thee now, deliver them like a man of this world.
 
    PISTOLA foutre for the world and worldlings base!
 I speak of Africa and golden joys.
 
    FALSTAFFO base Assyrian knight, what is thy news?
 Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof.
 
    SILENCEAnd Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John.    [Singing]
 
    PISTOLShall dunghill curs confront the Helicons?
 And shall good news be baffled?
 Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies’ lap.
 
    SILENCEHonest gentleman, I know not your breeding.
 
    PISTOLWhy then, lament therefore.
 
    SHALLOWGive 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.
 
    PISTOLUnder which king, Besonian? speak, or die.
 
    SHALLOWUnder King Harry.
 
    PISTOLHarry the Fourth? or Fifth?
 
    SHALLOWHarry the Fourth.
 
    PISTOLA 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.
 
    FALSTAFFWhat, is the old king dead?
 
    PISTOLAs nail in door: the things I speak are just.
 
    FALSTAFFAway, 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.
 
    BARDOLPHO joyful day!
 I would not take a knighthood for my fortune.
 
    PISTOLWhat! I do bring good news.
 
    FALSTAFFCarry 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 BardolphCome, 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! 
    PISTOLLet 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 |