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That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven,
For recordation to my noble husband.

North. Come, come, go in with me: 'tis with my
mind,

As with the tide swell'd up unto its height,
That makes a still-stand, running neither way.
Fain would I go to meet the archbishop,
But many thousand reasons hold me back:-
I will resolve for Scotland; there am I,
Till time and vantage crave my company. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.-London. A Room in the Boar's
Head Tavern, in Eastcheap.

Enter two Drawers.

1 Draw. What the devil hast thou brought there? apple-Johns? thou know'st, sir John cannot endure an apple-John.

2 Draw. Mass, thou sayest true: The prince once set a dish of apple-Johns before him, and told him, there were five more sir Johns: and, putting off his hat, said, I will now take my leave of these six dry, round, old, wither'd knights. It angered him to the heart; but he hath forgot that.

1 Draw. Why then, cover, and set them down: And see if thou canst find out Sneak's noise; mistress Tear-sheet would fain hear some music. Despatch:-The room where they supped is too hot; they'll come in straight.

2 Draw. Sirrah, here will be the prince, and master Poins anon: and they will put on two of our jerkins, and aprons; and sir John must not know of it: Bardolph hath brought word.

1 Draw. By the mass, here will be old utis: It will be an excellent stratagem.

2 Draw. I'll see, if I can find out Sneak. [Exit. Enter Hostess and DOLL TEAR-SHEET. Host. I'faith, sweet heart, methinks now you are in an excellent good temperality: your pulsidge beats as extraordinarily as heart would desire: and your color, I warrant you, is as red as any rose: But, i'faith, you have drunk too much canaries; and that's a marvellous searching wine, and it perfumes the blood ere one can say,-What's this? How do you now?

Doll. Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang yourself!

Host. By my troth, this is the old fashion; you two never meet, but you fall to some discord: you are both. in good troth, as rheumatic as two dry toasts; you cannot one bear with another's confirmities. What the good-year!" one must bear, and that must be you: [To DOLL.] you are the weaker vessel, as they say, the emptier vessel.

Doll. Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge full hogshead? there's a whole merchant's venture of Bourdeaux stuff in him; you have not seen a hulk better stuffed in the hold.-Come, I'll be friends with thee, Jack: thou art going to the wars; and whether I shall ever see thee again, or no, there is nobody cares.

Re-enter Drawer.

Draw. Sir, ancient Pistol's below, and would speak with you.

Doll. Hang him, swaggering rascal! let him not come hither: it is the foul-mouth'dst rogue in England.

Host. If he swagger, let him not come here: no, by my faith; I must live amongst my neighbors; I'll no swaggerers: I am in good name and fame with the very best:-Shut the door;-there comes no swaggerers here: I have not lived all this while, to have swaggering now:-Shut the door, I pray you.

Fal. Dost thou hear, hostess?

Host. Pray you, pacify yourself, sir John; there comes no swaggerers here.

Fal. Dost thou hear? it is mine ancient.

than

Host. Tilly-fally, sir John, never tell me; your ancient swaggerer comes not in my doors. I was | before master Tisick, the deputy, the other day; and, as he said to me,-it was no longer ago Wednesday last,-Neighbor Quickly, says he master Dumb, our minister, was by then-Neigh bor Quickly, says he, receive those that are civil, for, saith he, you are in an ill name;—now he said so, I can tell whereupon; for, says he, you are an honest woman, and well thought on; therefore take heed what guests you receive: Receive, says he, Host. Why, that's well said; a good heart's worth here; you would bless you to hear what he said: no swaggering companions.There comes none gold. Look, here comes sir John.

Doll. Better than I was. Hem.

Enter FALSTAFF, singing.

Fal. When Arthur first in court.-Empty the jordan. And was a worthy king: [Exit Drawer.] How now, mistress Doll?

Host. Sick of a calm: yea, good sooth. Fal. So is all her sect; an they be once in a calm, they are sick.

Doll. You muddy rascal, is that all the comfort you give me?

Fal. You make fat rascals, mistress Doll. Doll. I make them! gluttony and diseases make them; I make them not.

Fal. If the cook help to make the gluttony, you help to make the discases, Doll: we catch of you, Doll, we catch of you; grant that, my poor virtue, grant that.

Doll. Ay, marry; our chains, and our jewels. Fal. Your brooches, pearls, and owches:—for to serve bravely, is to come halting off, you know: To come off the breach with his pike bent bravely, and to surgery bravely; to venture upon the charged chambers' bravely:

An apple that will keep two years.

• Sneak was a street minstrel: a noise of musicians an

ciently signified a concert.

Merry doings.

Small pieces of ordnance.

-no, I'll no swaggerers.

Fal. He's no swaggerer, hostess; a tame cheater, he; you may stroke him as gently as a puppy grey-hound: he will not swagger with a Barbary hen, if her feathers turn back in any show of resistance.-Call him up, drawer.

Host. Cheater, call you him? I will bar no honest man my house, nor no cheater: But I do not love swaggering; by my troth, I am the worse, when one says swagger: feel, masters, how I shake; look you, I warrant you.

Doll. So you do, hostess.

Host. Do I? yea, in very truth, do I, an 'twere an aspen leaf: I cannot abide swaggerers.

Enter PISTOL, BARDOLPH, and Page.
Pist. 'Save you, sir John!

Fal. Welcome, ancient Pistol. Here, Pistol, I charge you with a cup of sack: do you discharge upon mine hostess.

Pist. I will discharge upon her, sir John, with two bullets.

Fal. She is pistol-proof, sir; you shall hardly offend her.

Host. Come, I'll drink no proofs, nor no bullets:

Mrs. Quickly's blunder for goujere, i, e. pox.
Ensign.
a Gamester.

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I'll drink no more than will do me good, for no man's pleasure, I.

Pist. Then to you, mistress Dorothy; I will charge you.

Doll. Charge me? I scorn you, scurvy companion. What! you poor, base, rascally, cheating, lack-linen mate! Away, you mouldy rogue, away! I am meat for your master.

Pist. I know you, mistress Dorothy.

Doll. Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! by this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you basket-hilt stale juggler, you!--Since when, I pray you, sir?-What, with two points' on your shoulder! much!'

Pist. I will murder your ruff for this.

Ful. No more, Pistol; I would not have you go off here: discharge yourself of our company, Pistol. Host. No, good captain Pistol; not here, sweet captain.

Doll. Captain! thou abominable damned cheater, art thou not ashamed to be called-captain? If captains were of my mind, they would truncheon you out, for taking their names upon you before you have earned them. You a captain, you slave! for what? for tearing a poor whore's ruff in a bawdyhouse-He a captain! Hang him, rogue! He lives upon mouldy stewed prunes, and dried cakes. A captain! these villains will make the word captain as odious as the word occupy; which was an excellent good word before it was ill-sorted: therefore, captains had need look to it.

Bard. Pray thee, go down, good ancient.
Fal. Hark thee hither, mistress Doll.
Pist. Not I: tell thee what, corporal Bardolph;-
I could tear her:-I'll be revenged on her.
Page. Pray thee, go down.

Pist. I'll see her damned first;-to Pluto's damned lake, to the infernal deep, with Erebus and tortures vile also. Hold hook and line, say I. Down! down, dogs! down, faitors! Have we not Hiren here?

Host. Good captain Peesel, be quiet; it is very late, i'faith: I beseek you now, aggravate your

choler.

Pist. These be good humors, indeed! Shall pack

horses,

And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia,
Which carrot go but thirty miles a day,
Compare with Cæsars, and with Cannibals,"
And Trojan Greeks? nay, rather damn them with
King Cerberus; and let the welkin roar.
Shall we fall foul for toys?

Host. By my troth, captain, these are very bitter

words.

Bard. Be gone, good ancient: this will grow to a brawl anon.

Pist. Die men, like dogs; give crowns like pins; Have we not Hiren here?

Host. O' my word, captain, there's none such here. What the good-year! do you think I would deny her? for God's sake, be quiet.

Pist. Then feed, and be fat, my fair Calipolis:" Come, give's some sack.

Si fortuna me tormenta, sperato me con

tenta.

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Give me some sack;
there.

and, sweetheart, lie thou [Laying down his sword. Come we to full points here; and are et ceteras nothing?

Fal. Pistol, I would be quiet.

Pist. Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif: What! we have seen the seven stars.

Doll. Thrust him down stairs; I cannot endure such a fustian rascal.

Pist. Thrust him down stairs! know we not Galloway nags?

Fal. Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shovegroat shilling: nay, if he do nothing but speak nothing, he shall be nothing here.

Bard. Come, get you down stairs.
Pist. What! shall we have incision? shall we
imbrue?- [Snatching up his sword.
Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful
days!

Why then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds
Untwine the sisters three! Come, Atropos, I say!
Host. Here's goodly stuff toward!
Fal. Give me my rapier, boy.

Doll. I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not draw.
Fal. Get you down stairs.

[Drawing, and driving PISTOL out.
Host. Here's a goodly tumult! I'll forswear
keeping house, afore I'll be in these tirrits and
So; murder, I warrant now. Alas,
frights.
alas! put up your naked weapons, put up your
naked weapons. [Exeunt PISTOL and BARDOLPH.

Doll. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal is gone. Ah, you whoreson little valiant villain, you. Host. Are you not hurt i' the groin? methought, he made a shrewd thrust at your belly.

Re-enter BARDOLPH.

Fal. Have you turned him out of doors? Bard. Yes, sir. The rascal's drunk: you have hurt him, sir, in the shoulder.

Fal. A rascal! to brave me!

Doll. Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor ape, how thou sweat'st! Come, let me wipe thy face; come on, you whoreson chops:—Ah, rogue! i'faith, I love thee. Thou art as valorous as Hector of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon, and ten times better than the nine worthies. Ah, villain!

Fal. A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a blanket.

Doll. Do, if thou darest for thy heart: if thou dost, I'll canvass thee between a pair of sheets. Enter Music.

Page. The music is come, sir.

Fal. Let them play :-Play, sirs.-Sit on my knec, Doll. A rascal bragging slave! the rogue fled from me like quicksilver.

Doll. I'faith, and thou followedst him like a church. Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou leave fighting o'days, and foining o'nights, and begin to patch up thine old body for heaven?

Enter behind, PRINCE HENRY and POINS, disguised like Drawers.

Fal. Peace, good Doll! Do not speak like a death's head: do not bid me remember mine end. Doll. Sirrah, what humor is the prince of? Fal. A good shallow young fellow: he would have made a good pantler, he would have chipped bread well.

Doll. They say, Poins has a good wit.

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Fal. He a good wit? hang him, baboon! his wit is as thick as Tewksbury mustard: there is no more conceit in him, than is in a mallet.

Doll. Why does the prince love him so then? Fal. Because their legs are both of a bigness; and he plays at quoits well; and eats conger and fennel; and drinks off candles' ends for flap-dragons; and rides the wild mare with the boys; and jumps upon joint-stools: and swears with a good grace; and wears his boot very smooth, like unto the sign of the leg; and breeds no bate with telling of discreet stories, and such other gambol faculties he hath, that show a weak mind and an able body, for the which the prince admits him: for the prince himself is such another; the weight of a hair will turn the scales between their avoirdupois.

P. Hen. Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off?

Poins. Let's beat him before his whore.

at your back; and spoke it on purpose to try my patience.

Fal. No, no, no; not so; I did not think thou wast within hearing.

P. Hen. I shall drive you then to confess the wilful abuse; and then I know how to handle you. Fal. No abuse, Hal, on mine honor; no abuse. P. Hen. Not? to dispraise me; and call me pantler, and bread-chipper, and I know not what? Fal. No abuse, Hal.

Poins. No abuse?

Fal. No abuse, Ned, in the world; honest Ned, none. I dispraised him before the wicked, that the wicked might not fall in love with him:-in which doing I have done the part of a careful friend, and a true subject, and thy father is to give me thanks for it. No abuse, Hal;-none, Ned, none;-no, boys, none.

P. Hen. See, now, whether pure fear, and en

P. Hen. Look, if the withered elder hath not his tire cowardice, doth not make thee wrong this virpoll clawed like a parrot.

Poins. Is it not strange, that desire should so many years outlive performance?

Fal. Kiss me, Doll.

P. Hen. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! what says the almanac to that?

Poins. And, look, whether the fiery Trigon his man, be not lisping to his master's old tables; his note-book, his counsel-keeper.

Fal. Thou dost give me flattering busses. Doll. Nay, truly; I kiss thee with a most constant heart.

Fal. I am old, I am old.

tuous gentlewoman to close with us? Is she of the
wicked? Is thine hostess here of the wicked? Or
is the boy of the wicked? Or honest Bardolph,
whose zeal burns in his nose, of the wicked?
Poins. Answer, thou dead elm, answer.
Fal. The fiend hath pricked down Bardolph ir-
recoverable: and his face is Lucifer's privy kitchen,
where he doth nothing but roast malt-worms. For
the boy, there is a good angel about him; but the
devil outbids him too.

P. Hen. For the women,

Fal. For one of them,-she is in hell already, and burns, poor soul! For the other, I owe her Doll. I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy money; and whether she be damned for that, I young boy of them all.

Fal. What stuff wilt have a kirtle' of? I shall receive money on Thursday: thou shalt have a cap to-morrow. A merry song, come: it grows late, we'll to bed. Thou'lt forget me, when I am gone.

Doll. By my troth, thou'lt set me a weeping, an thou sayest so: prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return.— -Well, hearken the end. Fal. Some sack, Francis.

P. Hen. Poins. Anon, anon, sir. [Advancing. Fal. Ha! a bastard son of the king's?-And art not thou Poins his brother?

know not.

Host. No, I warrant you.

Fal. No, I think thou art not; I think, thou art quit for that: Marry, there is another indictment upon thee, for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house, contrary to the law; for the which, I think, thou wilt howl.

Host. All victuallers do so: What's a joint of mutton or two in a whole Lent? P. Hen. You, gentlewoman,

Doll. What says your grace?

Fal. His grace says that which his flesh rebels

P. Hen. Why, thou globe of sinful continents, against. what a life dost thou lead?

Fal. A better than thou; I am a gentleman, thou art a drawer.

P. Hen. Very true, sir; and I come to draw you out by the ears.

Host. O, the Lord preserve thy good grace! by my troth, welcome to London. Now the Lord bless that sweet face of thine! O Jesu, are you come from Wales?

Fal. Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty,-by this light flesh and corrupt blood, thou art welcome.

[Leaning his hand DOLL. upon Doll. How! you fat fool, I scorn you. Poins. My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge, and turn all to a merriment, if you take not the heat.

P. Hen. You whoreson candle-mine, you; how vilely did you speak of me even now, before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman?

Host. Who knocks so loud at door? look to the door there, Francis.

Enter PETO.

P. Hen. Peto, how now? what news?

And there are twenty weak and wearied posts,
Peto. The king, your father, is at Westminster,
Come from the north: and, as I came along,
I met, and overtook, a dozen captains,
And asking every one for sir John Falstaff.
Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns,

P. Hen. By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame,
So idly to profane the precious time:
When tempest of commotion, like the south,
Borne with black vapor, doth begin to melt,
And drop upon our bare unarmed heads.
Give me my sword and cloak :-Falstaff, good
night.

[Ex. P. HENRY, POINS, PETO, and BARD. Fal. Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the

Host. 'Blessing o'your good heart! and so she night, and we must hence, and leave it unpicked. is, by my troth.

Fal. Didst thou hear me?

P. Hen. Yes; and you knew me, as you did when you ran away by Gads-hill: you knew, I was

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[Knocking heard.] More knocking at the door? Re-enter BARDOLPH.

How now? what's the matter?

Bard. You must away to court, sir, presently; A dozen captains stay at door for you.

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Fal. Pay the musicians, sirrah. [To the Page.] Farewell, hostess;-Farewell, Doll.-You see, my good wenches, how men of merit are sought after: the undeserver may sleep, when the man of action is called on. Farewell, good wenches: If I be not sent away post, I will see you again ere I go.

Doll. I cannot speak;-If my heart be not ready to burst:-Well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself. Fal. Farewell, farewell.

[Exeunt FALSTAFF, and BARDOLph.

Host. Well, fare thee well: I have known thee these twenty-nine years, come peascod-time; but an honester, and truer-hearted man,-Well, fare thee well.

Bard. [Within.] Mistress Tear-sheet,-
Host. What's the matter?

Bard. [Within.] Bid mistress Tear-sheet come to my master.

Host. O run, Doll, run; run, good Doll.

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I-A Room in the Palace. Enter KING HENRY in his Night-gown with a Page.

K. Hen. Go, call the earls of Surrey and of

Warwick;

But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read these letters, And well consider of them: Make good speed.— [Exit Page. How many thousand of my poorest subjects Are at this hour asleep!-Sleep, gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness? Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber; Than in the perfumed chambers of the great, Under the canopies of costly state, And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody? O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile, In loathsome beds; and leav'st the kingly couch, A watch-case, or a common 'larum bell? Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the rude imperious surge; And in the visitation of the winds Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deaf'ning clamors in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes? Canst thou, O partial sleep! give thy repose To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude; And, in the calmest and most stillest night, With all appliances and means to boot, Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

Enter WARWICK and SURREY.

War. Many good morrows to your majesty!
K. Hen. Is it good morrow, lords?
War. 'Tis one o'clock, and past.

K. Hen. Why then, good morrow to you all, my
lords.

Have you read o'er the letters that I sent you?
War. We have, my liege.

K. Hen. Then you perceive the body of our
kingdom,

How foul it is; what rank diseases grow,
And with what danger, near the heart of it.
War. It is but as a body, yet, distemper'd;
Which to his former strength may be restor❜d,
With good advice, and little medicine:-
My lord Northumberland will soon be cool'd.
K. Hen. O heaven! that one might read the book
of fate;

And see the revolution of the times
Make mountains level, and the continent

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(Weary of solid firmness) melt itself
Into the sea! and, other times, to see
The beachy girdle of the ocean
Too wide for Neptune's hips; how chances mock,
And changes fill the cup of alteration
The happiest youth,-viewing his progress through,
With divers liquors! O, if this were seen,
What perils past, what crosses to ensue,-
Would shut the book, and sit him down and die.
"Tis not ten years gone,

Since Richard, and Northumberland, great friends,
Did feast together, and, in two years after,
Were they at wars: It is but eight years, since
This Percy was the man nearest my soul;
Who like a brother toil'd in my affairs,
And laid his love and life under my foot:
Yea, for my sake, even to the eyes of Richard,
Gave him defiance. But which of you was by,
(You, cousin Nevil, as I may remember.)

[To WARWICK.
When Richard,-with his eye brimfull of tears,
Then check'd and rated by Northumberland,—
Did speak these words, now prov'd a prophecy?
Northumberland, thou ladder, by the which
My cousin Bolingbroke ascends my throne;—
Though then, heaven knows, I had no such in-

tent;

That I and greatness were compell'd to kiss:--
But that necessity so bow'd the state,

The time shall come, thus did he follow it,
The time will come, that foul sin, gathering head,
Shall break into corruption:-so went on,
Foretelling this same time's condition,
And the division of our amity.

War. There is a history in all men's lives,
Figuring the nature of the times deceas'd:
The which observ'd, a man may prophesy,
With a near aim, of the main chance of things
As yet not come to life; which in their seeds,
And weak beginnings, lie intreasured.
Such things become the hatch and brood of time;
And, by the necessary form of this,
King Richard might create a perfect guess,
That great Northumberland, then false to him,
Would of that seed grow to a greater falseness;
Which should not find a ground to root upon,
Unless on you.
K. Hen. Are these things then necessities?
Then let us meet them like necessities:
And that same word even now cries out on us;
They say, the bishop and Northumberland
Are fifty thousand strong.

War. It cannot be, my lord; Rumor doth double, like the voice and echo, The numbers of the fear'd:-Please it your grace. To go to bed; upon my life, my lord, The powers that you already have sent forth, Shall bring this prize in very easily.

To comfort you the more, I have received
A certain instance, that Glendower is dead.
Your majesty hath been this fortnight ill;
And these unseason'd hours, perforce, must add
Unto your sickness.

K. Hen.

I will take your counsel: And, were these inward wars once out of hand, We would, dear lords, unto the Holy Land.

[Exeunt. SCENE II.-Court before Justice Shallow's House in Gloucestershire.

Enter SHALLOW and SILENCE, meeting; MOULDY, SHADOW, WART, FEEBLE, BULL-CALF, and Servants behind.

Shal. Come on, come on, come on; give me your hand, sir, give me your hand, sir; an early stirrer, by the rood." And how doth my good cousin Silence?

Sil. Good morrow, good cousin Shallow. Shal. And how doth my cousin, your bedfellow? and your fairest daughter, and mine, my goddaughter Ellen?

S. Alas, a black ouzel, cousin Shallow.

Shal. By yea and nay, sir, I dare say, my cousin William is become a good scholar: He is at Oxford,

still, is he not?

Sil. Indeed, sir; to my cost.

Shal. He must then to the inns of court, shortly: I was once of Clement's Inn; where, I think, they will talk of mad Shallow yet.

Enter BARDOLPH, and one with him.

Sil. Here come two of sir John Falstaff's men, as I think.

Bard. Good morrow, honest gentlemen: I be seech you, which is justice Shallow!

Shal. I am Robert Shallow, sir; a poor esquire of this county, and one of the king's justices of the peace: What is your good pleasure with me?

Bard. My captain, sir, commends him to you: my captain, sir John Falstaff: a tall gentleman, by heaven, and a most gallant leader.

Shal. He greets me well, sir; I knew him a good backsword man: How doth the good knight? may I ask, how my lady his wife doth?

Bard. Sir, pardon; a soldier is better accommodated than with a wife.

Shal. It is well said, in faith, sir; and it is well said indeed too. Better accommodated!-it is good; yea, indeed, it is: good phrases are surely, and ever were, very commendable. Accommodated!-it comes from accommodo; very good; a good phrase.

Bard. Pardon me, sir: I have heard the word. Phrase, call you it? By this good day, I know not the phrase: but I will maintain the word with my sword, to be a soldier-like word, and a word of exceeding good command. Accommodated; that is, when a man is, as they say, accommodated: or thought to be accommodated, which is an excellent when a man is,-being,-whereby, he may be

thing.

Enter FALSTAFF.

Shal. It is very just:-Look, here comes good sir John.-Give me your good hand, give me your worship's good hand: By my troth, you look well, and bear your years very well: welcome, good sir John.

Sil. You were called-lusty Shallow, then, cousin. Shal. By the mass, I was called any thing; and I would have done any thing indeed, and roundly too. There was I, and little John Doit of Staffordshire, and black George Bare, and Francis Pickbone, and Will Squele, a Cotswold man,-you had not four such swinge-bucklers in all the inns of court again: and I may say to you, we knew where the bona-robas were. Then was Jack Falstaff, now sir John, a boy; and page to Thomas Mow-commission with me. bray, duke of Norfolk.

Fal. I am glad to see you well, good master Robert Shallow:-Master Sure-card, as I think. Shal. No, sir John; it is my cousin Silence, in

Fal. Good master Silence, it well befits you

Sil. This sir John, cousin, that comes hither should be of the peace. anon, about soldiers?

Shal. The same sir John, the very same; I saw him break Skogan's head at the court gate, when he was a crack," not thus high: and the very same day did I fight with one Sampson Stockfish, a fruiterer, behind Gray's Inn. Ó, the mad days that I have spent! and to see how many of mine old acquaintance are dead!

Sil. We shall all follow, cousin.

Shal. Certain, 'tis certain; very sure, very sure; death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all; all shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at Stamford fair?

Sil. Truly, cousin, I was not there.

Shal. Death is certain.-Is old Double of your town living yet?

Sil. Dead, sir.

Shal. Dead!-See, see!—he drew a good bow; -And dead!-He shot a fine shoot:-John of Gaunt loved him well, and betted much money on his head. Dead!-he would have clapped 'i the clout at twelve score; and carried you a forehand shaft at fourteen and fourteen and a half, that it would have done a man's heart good to see. How a score of ewes now?

Sil. Thereafter as they be; a score of good ewes may be worth ten pounds.

Shal. And is old Double dead!

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Sil. Your good worship is welcome.
Fal. Fye! this is hot weather.-Gentlemen, have
you provided me here half a dozen sufficient men!
Shal. Marry, have we, sir. Will you sit?
Fal. Let me see them, I beseech you.
Shal. Where's the roll? where's the roll? where's
the roll?-let me see, let me see. So, so, so, so:
Yea, marry, sir-Ralph Mouldy:-let them ap
pear as I call; let them do so, let them do so.-
Let me see; where is Mouldy?

Moul. Here, an't please you.
Shal. What think you, sir John: a good limbed
fellow: young, strong, and of good friends.
Fal. Is thy name Mouldy?

Moul. Yea, an't please you.

Fal. 'Tis the more time thou wert used. Shal. Ha, ha, ha! most excellent, i'faith! things that are mouldy, lack use: Very singular good!— In faith, well said, sir John; very well said. [TO SHALLOW.

Fal. Prick him.

Moul. I was pricked well enough before, an you could have let me alone: my old dame will be undone now, for one to do her husbandry, and her drudgery: you need not to have pricked me; there are other men fitter to go out than I.

Fal. Go to; peace, Mouldy, you shall go. Mouldy, it is time you were spent.

Moul. Spent!

Shal. Peace, fellow, peace; stand aside; Know

2 Brave.

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