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Fal. Truly, mine hoft, I must turn away some of my Followers.
Hoft. Discard, bully Hercules, cashier ; let them wagi trot, trot.
Fal. I sit at ten pounds a week,
Hoft. Thou’rt an Emperor, Cæfar, Keifar and Pheazar, I will entertain Bardolph, he will draw, he will tap; said I well, bully Hector?
Fal. Do so, good mine hoft.
Hoft. I have spoke, let him follow, let me see thee froth, and live: I am at a
am at a word; follow. [Exit Hoft. Fal. Bardolph, follow him; a tapster is a good trade ; an old cloak makes a new jerkin; a wither'd serving-man, a fresh tapster ; go, adicu. Bard. It is a life that I have desir'd: I will thrive.
[Exit Bard. Pift. O base Hungarian wight, wilt thou the spigot wield?
Nym. He was gotten in drink, is not the humour conceited ?
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 reft.
Pift. Convey, the wise it call: steal ? foh; a fico for the phrase !
Fal. Well, Sirs, I am almost out at heels.
Fal. There is no remedy: I must cony catch, I must
Pift. Young ravens must have food.
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: Ispy 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.
Pijt. He hath study'd her well, and translated 7 'her out of honesty into English.
Nym. The anchor is deep; will that humour pafs ?
Fal. Now the report goes, she has all the rule of her husband's purse: she hath a legion of angels.
Pift. 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 oiellades; sometimes the beam of her view gilded my foot, sometimes my portly belly.
Pift. Then did the fun on dung-hill shine.
Fal. O, she did fo 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; she is a region in Guiana, all gold and bounty. I will be 8 Escheator to them both, and they shall be Excbequers to me; they shall be my East and West-Indies, and I will trade to them both. Gó, bear thou this letter to mistress Page; and thou this to mistress Ford: we will thrive, lads, we will thrive.
Pift. Shall I Sir Pandarus of Troy become,
Nym. I will run no base humour: here take the humourletter, I will keep the haviour of reputation. Fal. Hold, Sirrah, bear you these letters rightly,
[To Robin. Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores. Rogues, hence, avaunt! vanish like hail-ftones, go! Trudge, plod away o'th' hoof, seek shelter, pack!
Falstaf 7 well; out of ... old edit. Warb. emend. 8 Cheater
Falstaff will learn the humour of the
age, French thrift, you rogues, my self and skirted Page.
[Exeunt Falstaff and Boy.
Pift. Let vultures gripe thy guts; for gourd and
9' Fulhams' hold,
Nym. I have operations in my head, which be humours of revenge.
Pift. Wilt thou revenge?
Nym. With both the humours, I:
How Falstaff, varlet vile,
And his soft couch defile. Nym. My humour shall not cool; I will incense Ford to deal with poison, I will possess him with jealousies, for this revolt of mine is dangerous: that is my true humour.
Pift. Thou art the Mars of male-contents: I fecond thee; troop on.
S с Е N E IX.
Changes to Dr. Caius's house. Enter mistress Quickly, Simple, and John Rugby. Quic. WHAT, Jobn Rugby! I pray thee, go to the
casement, and see if you can see my master, master Doctor Caius, coming; if he do, i' faith, and find Vol. 1,
any 9 Fullan
any body in the house, here will be old abusing of God's patience, and the King's English. Rug. I'll go watch.
[Exit Rugby. Quic. Go, and we'll have a posset for't soon at night, in faith, at the latter end of a sea-coal fire. An honest, willing, kind fellow, as ever fervant shall come in house withal, and I warrant you no tell-tale, nor no breed-bate; his worst fault is that he is given to pray'r, he is something peevish that way; but no body but has his fault ; but let that pass. Peter Simple you say your name is.
Simp. Ay, for fault of a better.
Quic. Does he not wear a great round beard, like a glover's paring-knife ?
Simp. No, forsooth; he hath but a little wee-face, with a little yellow beard, a cane-colour'd beard.
Quic. A foftly-fprighted man, is he not?
Simp. Ay, forsooth; but he is as tall a man of his hands, as any is between this and his head: he hath fought with a warrener.
Quic. How say you? oh, I should remember him; does he not hold up his head, as it were ? and strut in his
Simp. Yes indeed does he.
Quic. Well, heav'n send Anne Page no worse fortune! Tell master parson Evans, I will do what I can for your master: Anne is a good girl, and I wish
Quic. We shall all be fhent; run in here, good young man; go into this closet; (Shuts Simple in the closet.] He will not stay long. What, Jobn Rugby! Fobn! what, Fobn, I say; go, Joon, go enquire for my master; Í doubt he be not well, that he comes not home: and down, down, a-down-a, &c.
Enter Doftor Caius. Caius. Vat is you sing? I do not like des toys; pray you, go and vetch me in my closet un boitier verd; a box, a green-a box; do intend vat I speak? a green-a box. Quic. Ay, forsooth, I'll fetch it
you. I am glad he went not in himself; if he had found the young man, he would have been horn-mad.
[ Aside. Caius. Fe, fe, fe, fe, ma foi il fait fort chaud, je m'en vais a la Cour la grande Affaire.
Quic. Is it this, Sir?
Caius. Ouy, mette le au mon pocket, Depech quickly : ver is dat knave Rugby?
Quic. What, John Rugby! John!
Caius. You are John Rugby, and you are Jack Rugby ; come, take-a your rapier, and come after my heel to the court.
Rug. 'Tis ready, Sir, here in the porch.
Caius. By my trot, I tarry too long: odd's me! Q116 ay je oublié ? dere is some simples in my closet, dat I vill not for the varld I shall leave behind.
Quic. Ay-me, he'll find the young man there, and be mad.
Caius. O Diable, Diable! vat is in my closet? villaine, Larron! Rugby, my rapier.
Quic. Good master, be content.
Caius. </Vat' shall de honest man do in my closet? dere is no honest man dat shall come in my closet.
Quic. I beseech you, be not fo fegmatick; hear the truth of it. He came of an errand to me from parfon Hugb. Caius. Vell. Q 2
Simp. 2 What