Shal.

Come on, come on, come on; 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 bed-fellow? and your fairest daughter, and mine, my god-daughter Ellen?

Sil.

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.

Sil.

You were call'd lusty Shallow then, cousin.

Shal.

I was call'd any thing, and I would have done any thing, indeed, too, and roundly too. There was I, and little John Doit of Staffordshire, and black George Bare, and Francis Pickbone, and Will Squele a Cot'swold 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-Roba's were, and had the best of them all at commandment. Then was Jack Falstaff, (now Sir John) a boy, and page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk.

Sil.

This Sir John, cousin, that comes hither anon about Soldiers?

Shal.

The same Sir John, the very same: I saw him break Schoggan's head at the Court-gate, when he was a crack, not thus high; and the very same day I did fight with one Sampson Stockfish, a fruiterer, behind Grays-Inn! O 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 mony on his head. Dead! he would have clapt in the clowt at twelve score, and carried you a fore-hand shaft a 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?

Sil.

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

Shal.

Good morrow, honest gentlemen.

Bard.

I beseech you, which is Justice Shallow?

Shal.

I am Robert Shallow, Sir, a poor Esquire of this County, 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 heav'n! and a most gallant leader

Shal.

He greets me well: Sir, I knew him a good back-sword 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, Sir; and it is well said, indeed, too: better accommodated—it is good, yea, indeed, is it; good phrases, surely, are, and ever were, very commendable. Accommodated—it comes of accommodo; very good, a good phrase.

Bard.

Pardon me, Sir, I have heard the word. Phrase, call you it? by this 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, when a man is, being whereby he may be thought to be accommodated, which is an excellent thing.

Shal.

It is very just: look, here comes good Sir John. Give me your good hand, give me your Worship's

good hand: trust me, you look well, and bear your years very well. Welcome, good Sir John.

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 Commission with me.

Fal.

Good master Silence, it well befits, you should be of the peace.

Sil.

Your good Worship is welcome.

Fal.

Fie, this is hot weather, gentlemen; have you provided me here half a dozen of 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, let me see: so, so, so, so: yea, marry, Sir. Ralph Mouldy:—let them appear as I call: let them do so, let them do so. Let me see, where is Mouldy?

Moul.

Here, if it please you.

Shal.

What think you, Sir John? a good limb'd fellow: young, strong, and of good friends.

Fal.

Is thy name Mouldy?

Moul.

Yea, if it please you.

Fal.

'Tis the more time thou wert us'd.

Shal.

Ha, ha, ha, most excellent, i'faith. Things, that are mouldy, lack use: very singular good. Well said, Sir John, very well said.

Fal.

Prick him.

Moul.

I was prickt well enough before, if 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 prickt 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 you where you are? for the other, Sir John.—Let me see: Simon Shadow.

Fal.

Ay, marry, let me have him to sit under: he's like to be a cold soldier.

Shal.

Where's Shadow?

Shad.

Here, Sir.

Fal.

Shadow, whose son art thou?

Shad.

My mother's son, Sir.

Fal.

Thy mother's son! like enough; and thy father's shadow: so the son of the female is the shadow of the male: it is often so, indeed, but not of the father's substance.

Shal.

Do you like him, Sir John?

Fal.

Shadow will serve for summer; prick him; for we have a number of shadows do fill up the muster-book.

Shal.

Thomas Wart.

Fal.

Where's he?

Wart.

Here, Sir.

Fal.

Is thy name Wart?

Wart.

Yea, Sir.

Fal.

Thou art a very ragged wart.

Shal.

Shall I prick him down, Sir John?

Fal.

It were superfluous; for his apparel is built upon his back, and the whole frame stands upon pins: prick him no more.

Shal.

Ha, ha, ha, you can do it, Sir; you can do it: I commend you well. Francis Feeble.

Feeble.

Here, Sir.

Fal.

What trade art thou, Feeble?

Feeble.

A woman's tailor, Sir.

Shal.

Shall I prick him, Sir?

Fal.

You may: but if he had been a man's tailor, he would have prick'd you. Wilt thou make as many holes in an enemy's battel, as thou hast done in a woman's petticoat?

Feeble.

I will do my good will, Sir; you can have no more.

Fal.

Well said, good woman's tailor; well said, courageous Feeble: thou wilt be as valiant as the wrathful Dove, or most magnanimous Mouse. Prick the

woman's tailor well, master Shallow, deep, master Shallow.

Feeble.

I would, Wart might have gone, Sir.

Fal.

I would, thou wert a man's tailor, that thou might'st mend him, and make him fit to go. I cannot put him to be a private soldier, that is the leader of so many thousands. Let that suffice, most forcible Feeble.

Feeble.

It shall suffice.

Fal.

I am bound to thee, reverend Feeble. Who is the next?

Shal.

Peter Bulcalf of the Green.

Fal.

Yea, marry, let us see Bulcalf.

Bul.

Here, Sir.

Fal.

Trust me, a likely fellow. Come, prick me Bulcalf, till he roar again.

Bul.

Oh, good my lord captain,—

Fal.

What dost thou roar before th'art prickt?

Bul.

Oh, Sir, I am a diseased man.

Fal.

What disease hast thou?

Bul.

A whorson Cold, Sir; a cough, Sir, which I caught with ringing in the King's affairs, upon his Coronation-day, Sir.

Fal.

Come, thou shalt go to the wars in a gown: we will have away thy Cold, and I will take such order that thy friends shall ring for thee. Is here all?

Shal.

There is two more called than your number, you must have but four here, Sir; and so, I pray you, go in with me to dinner.

Fal.

Come, I will go drink with you, but I cannot tarry dinner. I am glad to see you, in good troth, master Shallow.

Shal.

O, Sir John, do you remember since we lay all night in the wind-mill in Saint George's fields?

Fal.

No more of that, good master Shallow, no more of that.

Shal.

Ha! it was a merry night. And is Jane Night-work alive?

Fal.

She lives, master Shallow.

Shal.

She never could away with me.

Fal.

Never, never; she would always say, she could not abide master Shallow.

Shal.

By the mass, I could anger her to the heart: she was then a Bona-roba. Doth she hold her own well?

Fal.

Old, old, master Shallow.

Shal.

Nay, she must be old, she cannot chuse but be old; certain, she's old, and had Robin Night-work by old Night-work, before I came to Clement's-Inn.

Sil.

That's fifty five years ago.

Shal.

Hah, cousin Silence, that thou hadst seen That, that this knight and I have seen!—hah, Sir John, said I well?

Fal.

We have heard the chimes at midnight, Master Shallow.

Shal.

That we have, that we have, in faith, Sir John, we have: our watch-word was, hem, boys.—Come, let's to dinner; Oh, the days that we have seen! come, come.

Bul.

Good master corporate Bardolph, stand my friend, and here is four Harry ten shillings in French Crowns for you: in very truth, Sir, I had as lief be hang'd, Sir, as go; and yet for my own part, Sir, I do not care, but rather because I am unwilling, and for mine own part, have a desire to stay with my friends; else, Sir, I did not care for mine own part so much.

Bard.

Go to; stand aside.

Moul.

And good master corporal captain, for my old Dame's sake stand my friend: she hath no body to do any thing about her when I am gone, and she's old and cannot help her self: you shall have forty, Sir.

Bard.

Go to; stand aside.

Feeble.

I care not, a man can die but once; we owe God a death, I will never bear a base mind: if it be my destiny so: if it be not, so. No man is too good to serve his Prince; and let it go which way it will, he that dies this year is quit for the next.

Bard.

Well said, thou art a good fellow.

Feeble.

'Faith, I will bear no base mind.

Fal.

Come, Sir, which men shall I have?

Shal.

Four of which you please.

Bard.

Sir, a word with you:—I have three pound to free Mouldy and Bulcalf.

Fal.

Go to: well.

Shal.

Come, Sir John, which four will you have?

Fal.

Do you chuse for me.

Shal.

Marry then, Mouldy, Bulcalf, Feeble and Shadow.

Fal.

Mouldy, and Bulcalf:—for you, Mouldy, stay at home till you are past service: and for your part, Bulcalf, grow till you come unto it: I will none of you.

Shal.

Sir John, Sir John, do not yourself wrong, they are your likeliest men, and I would have you serv'd with the best.

Fal.

Will you tell me, master Shallow, how to chuse a man? care I for the limb, the thewes, the stature, bulk and big semblance of a man? give me the spirit, master Shallow. Here's Wart; you see, what a ragged appearance it is: he shall charge you and discharge you with the motion of a pewterer's hammer; come off and on, swifter than he that gibbets on the brewer's bucket. And this same half-fac'd fellow Shadow, give me this man, he presents no mark to the enemy; the fo-man may with as great aim level at the edge of a pen-knife: and, for a retreat, how sweetly will this Feeble, the woman's tailor, run off? O give me the spare men, and spare me the great ones. Put me a caliver into Wart's hand, Bardolph.

Bard.

Hold, Wart, traverse; thus, thus, thus.

Fal.

Come, manage me your caliver: so, very well, go to, very good, exceeding good. O, give me always a little, lean, old, chopt, bald shot. Well said, Wart, thou art a good scab: hold, there's a tester for thee.

Shal.

He is not his craft-master, he doth not do it right. I remember at Mile-End-Green, when I lay at Clement's Inn, (24) ^note

Show; (25) ^note

Fal.

These fellows will do well. Master Shallow, God keep you; farewel, master Silence. I will not use many words with you, fare you well, gentlemen both. I thank you, I must a dozen mile to night. Bardolph, give the soldiers coats.

Shal.

Sir John, heaven bless you, and prosper your affairs, and send us peace. As you return, visit my house. Let our old acquaintance be renewed: peradventure, I will with you to the Court.

Fal.

I would you would, master Shallow.

Shal.

Go to: I have spoke at a word. Fare you well.

Fal.

Fare you well, gentle gentlemen. On, Bardolph, lead the men away. As I return, I will fetch off these Justices: I do see the bottom of Justice Shallow. How subject we old men are to this vice of lying! this same starv'd Justice hath done nothing but prated to me of the wildness of his youth, and the feats he hath done about Turnbul-street; and every third word a lie, more

duly paid to the hearer than the Turk's tribute. I do remember him at Clement's Inn, like a man made after supper of a cheese-paring. When he was naked, he was for all the world like a forked radish, with a head fantastically carv'd upon it with a knife. He was so forlorn, that his dimensions to any thick sight were invincible. He was the very Genius of famine, yet leacherous as a Monkey, and the whores call'd him Mandrake: he came ever in the rere-ward of the fashion; and sung those tunes to the over-scutcht huswives that he heard the carmen whistle, and sware they were his Fancies, or his Good-nights. (26) ^noteAnd now is this Vice's dagger become a Squire, and talks as familiarly of John of Gaunt as if he had been sworn brother to him: and I'll be sworn, he never saw him but once in the Tilt-yard, and then he broke his head for crouding among the Marshal's men. I saw it, and told John of Gaunt he beat his own name; for you might have truss'd him and all his apparel into an Eel-skin: the case of a treble hoboy was a Mansion for him, a Court; and now hath he land and beeves. Well, I will be acquainted with him, if I return; and it shall go hard but I will make him a philosopher's two stones to me. If the young Dace be a bait for the old Pike, I see no reason in the law of nature but I may snap at him. Let time shape, and there's an end.

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