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Fal. This Davy serves you for good uses; he is your servingman, and your husbandman.

Shal. A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good varlet, Sir John. By th' Mass, I have drank too much Sack at supper. — A good varlet. Now fit down, now fit down: come, cousin.

Sil. Ah, firrah, quoth-a, We shall do nothing but eat, and make good chear, (Singing. And praise heav'n for the merry year; When fles is cheap and females dear, And lufty lads roam here and there; So merily, and ever among, so nuerrily, &c.

Fal. There's a merry heart, good master Silence, I'll give you a health for that anon.

Shal. Give Mr. Bardolph some wine, Davy.

Davy. Sweet Sir, fit; I'll be with you anon; most fweet Sir, fit. Master Page, sit: good master Page fit: proface. What you want in meat, we'll have in drink; but you must bear; the heart's all. [Exit.

Shal. Be merry, master Bardolph, and, my little foldier there, be merry.

Sil. (Singing ] Be merry, be merry, my wife has all,
For women are Shrews, both short and tall ;
'Tis merry in hall, when beards wag all,
And welcome

merry

Shrovetide. Be merry, be merry.

Fal. I did not think, master Silence had been a man of this mettle. Sil. Who I? I have been

merry

twice and once

ere now.

Re-enter Davy.
Davy. There is a dish of leather-coats for you.
Shal, Davy,

Davy. Your Worship-I'll be with you straight.
A cup of wine, Sir ?

Sil. (Singing ] A cup of wine, That's Trifk and fine,

And

And drink unto the leman mine ;
And a merry heart lives long-a.

Fal. Well said, master Silence.

Sil. If we shall be merry, now comes in the sweet of the night.

Fal. Health and long life to you, master Silence.

Sil. Fill the cup, and let it come. I'll pledge you, were't a mile to the bottom.

Shal. Honest Bardolph, welcome; if thou want'st any thing and wilt not call, beshrew thy heart. Welcome, my little tiny thief, and welcome, indeed, too: I'll drink to master Bardolph, and to all the cavileroes about London.

Davy. I hope to see London, ere I die.
Bard. If I might see you there, Davy, -

Shal. You'll crack a quart together? ha, will you not, master Bardolph ?

Bard. Yes, Sir, in a pottle pot.

Shal. By God's liggens, I thank thee; the knave will stick by thee, I can assure thee that. He will not out, he is true-bred. Bard. And I'll stick by him, Sir.

[One knocks at the door. Shal. Why, there spoke a King: lack nothing, be merry. Look, who's at the door there, ho: who knocks?

al. Why, now you have done me right. Sil. (Singing.) Do me right, and dub me Knight, Samingo. Is't not so ?

Fal. 'Tis so.

Sil. Is’t so? why, then say, an old man can do somewhat.

Davy. If it please your Worship, there's one Pifol come from the Court with news.

Fal. From the Court? let him come in.

1

Vol. V.

K

SCENE

S CE N E V.

Enter Pistol.

How now, Pistol ?

Pift. Sir John, 'Save you, Sir. .
Fal. What wind blew you hither, Pistol ?

Pift. Not the ill wind which blows no man good, sweet Knight: thou art now one of the greatest men in the Realm.

Sil. Indeed, I think he be, but goodman Puff of Barson.

Pift. Puff? Puff in thy teeth, most recreant coward base; Sir John, I am thy Pistol and thy friend; And helter skelter have I rode to thee; And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys, And golden times, and happy news of price. Fal. I pr’ythee now, deliver them like a nian of

this world. Pift. A foutra for the world and worldlings base ! Speak of Africa and golden joys.

Fal. O base Assyrian Knight, what is thy news? Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof.

Sil. And Robin-hood, Scarlet, and John.

Pift. Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons ?
And shall good news be baffled?
Then Pistol lay thy head in fury's lap.

Shal. Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding.
Pist. Why then, lament therefore.

Shal. Give me pardon, Sir. If, Sir, you come with news from the Court; I take it, there is but two ways either to utter them, or to conceal them. I am, Sir under the King, in some authority.

Pift. Under which King ? * Bezonian, speak or die. Shal. Under King Harry. * Bizonian,] A vile or needy Person.

Mr. Theobald.

Pift. Harry the Fourth? or Fifth ?
Shal. Harry the Fourth.

Pift. A foutra for thine office !
Sir John, thy tender Lamb-kin now is King.
Harry the Fifth's the man. I speak the truth.
When Pistol lies, do this, and fig me like
The bragging Spaniard.

Fal. What, is the old King dead?
Pift. As nail in door: the things I speak are juft.

Fal. Away, Bardolph, faddie my horse. Master Robert Shallow, chiuse what office thou wilt in the Land, 'tis thine. Pistol, I will double charge thee with Dignities.

Bard. O joyful day! I would not take a Knighthood for

my

fortune. Pist. What? I do bring good news.

Fal. Carry master Silence to bed: master Shallow, my lord' Shallow, be what thou wilt, I am fortune's Steward. Get on thy boots, we'll ride all night. Oh, sweet Pistol! away, Bardolph: come, Pistol, utter more to me; and withal devise something to do thyself good.

Boot, boot, master Shallow. I know, the young King is fick for me.

Let us take any man's horses : the Laws of England are at my commandment, Happy are they which have been my friends; and woe to my Lord Chief Justice !

Pift. Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also!
Where is the life that late I led, say they?
Why, here it is, welcome this pleasant day. (Exeunt.

SC E N E VI.
Changes to a Street in LONDON.

Enter Hoft efs Quickly, Doll Tear-sheet, and Beadles, Hoft. thou arrant knave, I would I might die

that I might have thee hang'd; thou hast drawn my shoulder out of joint.

Bard

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Bead. The constables have deliver'd her over to
me; and she shall have whipping cheer enough, I
warrant her. There hath been a man or two kill'd
about her.
Dol. Nut-hook, nut-hook,

you
lie:

come on, I'll tell thee what, thou damn'd tripe-visag'd rascal, if the child, I go with, do miscarry, thou hadft better thou hadît struck thy mother, thou paper-fac'd villain.

Hoft. O the Lord, that Sir John were come, he would make this a bloody day to some body. But I pray God, the fruit of her womb miscarry.

Bead. If it do, you shall have a dozen of cushions again, you have but eleven now. Come, I charge you both go with me; for the man is dead, that

you

and Pistol beat among you.

Dol. I'll tell thee what, thou thin man in a Censer ! I will have you as foundly swing'd for this, you bluebottle rogue! you filthy familh'd correctioner! if

f you be not swing'd, I'll forswear half-kirtles.

Bead. Come, come, you she-Knight-arrant, come.
Hoft. O, that Right should thus o'ercome Might!
Well, of sufferance comes ease.

Dol. Come, you rogue, come; bring me to a Justice,
Hoft. Yes, come, you starv'd blood-hound.
Dol. Goodman death, goodman bones !
Hoft. Thou Atomy, thou !
Dol. Come, you thin thing: come, you rascal!
Bead. Very well.

(Exeunt,

S C E Ν. Ε.

VII.

1

A public Place near Westminster-Abbey.

į Groom. M

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Enter two Grooms strewing rushes.

OR E rushes, more rushes.
2 Groom. The trumpets have founded
twice.

i Groom.

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