Fal.

Mine host of the garter,—

Host.

What says my bully rock? speak schollarly, and wisely.

Fal.

Truly, mine host, I must turn away some of my followers.

Host.

Discard, bully Hercules, cashier; let them wag; trot, trot.

Fal.

I sit at ten pounds a week.

Host.

Thou'rt an Emperor, Cæsar, Keisar and Pheazar. I will entertain Bardolph, he shall draw, he shall tap; said I well, bully Hector?

Fal.

Do so, good mine host.

Host.

I have spoke, let him follow; let me see thee froth, and live: I am at a word; follow.

Fal.

Bardolph, follow him; a tapster is a good trade; an old cloak makes a new jerkin; a wither'd servingman, a fresh tapster; go, adieu.

Bard.

It is a life that I have desir'd: I will thrive.

Pist.

O base Hungarian wight, wilt thou the spigot wield?

Nym.

He was gotten in drink, is not the humour conceited? His mind is not heroick, and there's the humour of it.

Fal.

I am glad, I am so quit of this tinderbox; his thefts were too open; his filching was like an unskilful finger, he kept not time.

Nym.

The good humour is to steal at a minute's rest.

Pist.

Convey, the Wise it call: steal? foh; a fico for the phrase!

Fal.

Well, Sirs, I am almost out at heels.

Pist.

Why then, let kibes ensue.

Fal.

There is no remedy: I must conycatch, I must shift.

Pist.

Young ravens must have food.

Fal.

Which of you know Ford of this town?

Pist.

I ken the wight, he is of substance good.

Fal.

My honest lads, I will tell you what I am about.

Pist.

Two yards and more.

Fal.

No quips now, Pistol: indeed, I am in the waste two yards about; but I am now about no waste, I am about thrift. Briefly, I do mean to make love to Ford's wife: I spy entertainment in her; she discourses, she carves, she gives the leer of invitation; I can construe the action of her familiar stile, and the hardest voice of her behaviour, to be english'd right, is, I am Sir John Falstaff's.

Pist.

He hath study'd her well, and translated her well; out of honesty into English.

Nym.

The anchor is deep; will that humour pass?

Fal.

Now, the report goes, she has all the rule of her husband's purse: she hath a legion of angels.

Pist.

As many devils entertain; and to her, boy, say I.

Nym.

The humour rises; it is good; humour me the angels.

Fal.

I have writ me here a letter to her; and here another to Page's wife, who even now gave me good eyes too, examin'd my parts with most judicious Iliads; sometimes, the beam of her view guilded my foot; sometimes, my portly belly.

Pist.

Then did the sun on dung-hill shine.

Nym.

I thank thee for that humour.

Fal.

O, she did so course o'er my exteriors with such a greedy intention, that the appetite of her eye did seem to scorch me up like a burning-glass. Here's another letter to her; she bears the purse too; (6) ^noteshe is a region in Guiana, all gold and bounty. I will be Cheater to them both, and they shall be Exchequers to

me; they shall be my East and West-Indies, and I will trade to them both. Go, bear thou this letter to mistress Page; and thou this to mistress Ford: we will thrive, lads, we will thrive.

Pist.
Shall I Sir Pandaras of Troy become;
And by my side wear steel? then, Lucifer take all!

Nym.

I will run no base humour; here, take the humour-letter, I will keep the haviour of reputation.

Fal.
Hold, Sirrah, bear you these letters tightly,
Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores. [To Robin.
Rogues, hence, avaunt! vanish like hail-stones, go;
Trudge, plod away o'th' hoof, seek shelter, pack!
Falstaff will learn the humour of the age,(7) ^note