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SCENE III

A room in the Garter Inn.
Enter FALSTAFF, HOST, BARDOLPH, NYM, PISTOL, and ROBIN.

Fal.
Mine host of the Garter!

Host.
What says my bully-rook? speak
scholarly 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, Caesar, Keisar,
and Pheezar. 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.
[To Bard.] Let me see thee froth and lime: I am
at a word; follow.
[Exit.

Fal.
Bardolph, follow him. A tapster is a
good trade: an old cloak makes a new jerkin;
a withered serving-man a fresh tapster. Go; (20)
adieu.

Bard.
It is a life that I have desired: I will
thrive.

Pist.
O base Hungarian wight! wilt thou
the spigot wield?
[Exit Bardolph.

Nym.
He was gotten in drink: is not the
humor conceited?

Fal.
I am glad I am so acquit of this tinderbox:
his thefts were too open; his filching
was like an unskilful singer; he kept not time.

Nym.
The good humor is to steal at a (31)
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 (41)
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 waist 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 style; and
the hardest voice of her behaviour, to be Englished
rightly, is, 'I am Sir John Falstaff's.'

Pist.
He hath studied her will, and translated
her will, out of honesty into English.

Nym.
The anchor is deep: will that
humor pass?

Fal.
Now, the report goes she has all the
rule of her husband's purse: he hath a legion (60)
of angels.

Pist.
As many devils entertain; and 'To
her, boy,' say I.

Nym.
The humor rises; it is good: humor
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, examined my parts
with most judicious oeillades; sometimes the
beam of her view gilded my foot, sometimes
my portly belly. (70)

Pist.
Then did the sun on dunghill shine.

Nym.
I thank thee for that humor.

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; she 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 Pandarus of Troy become,

And by my side wear steel? then, Lucifer take all!

Nym.
I will run no base humor: here,
take the humor-letter: I will keep the havior
of reputation.

Fal.
[To Robin]
Hold, sirrah, bear you these letters tightly;

Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores. (90)

Rogues, hence, avaunt! vanish like hailstones go:

Trudge, plod away o' the hoof; seek shelter, pack!

Falstaff will learn the humor of the age,

French thrift, you rogues; myself and skirted page.
[Exeunt Falstaff and Robin.


Pist.
Let vultures gripe thy guts! for gourd and fullam holds,

And high and low beguiles the rich and poor:

Tester I'll have in pouch when thou shalt lack,

Base Phrygian Turk!

Nym.
I have operations which be humours
of revenge. (100)

Pist.
Wilt thou revenge?

Nym.
By welkin and her star!

Pist.
With wit or steel?

Nym.
With both the humors, I:

I will discuss the humor of this love to Page.

Pist.
And I to Ford shall eke unfold

How Falstaff varlet vile,

His dove will prove, his gold will hold,

And his soft couch defile.

Nym.
My humor shall not cool: I will incense
Page to deal with poison; I will possess
him with yellowness, for the revolt of mine
is dangerous: that is my true humor.

Pist.
Thou art the Mars of malecontents:
I second thee; troop on.
[Exeunt.

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