Act 1, Scene 3: A room in the Garter Inn

SCENE III. A room in the Garter Inn.

    Enter FALSTAFF, Host, BARDOLPH, NYM, PISTOL, and ROBIN

FALSTAFF

    Mine host of the Garter!

Host

    What says my bully-rook? speak scholarly and wisely.

FALSTAFF

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

Host

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

FALSTAFF

    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?

FALSTAFF

    Do so, good mine host.

Host

    I have spoke; let him follow.

    To BARDOLPH
    Let me see thee froth and lime: I am at a word; follow.

    Exit

FALSTAFF

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

BARDOLPH

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

PISTOL

    O base Hungarian wight! wilt thou the spigot wield?

    Exit BARDOLPH

NYM

    He was gotten in drink: is not the humour conceited?

FALSTAFF

    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 humour is to steal at a minute's rest.

PISTOL

    'Convey,' the wise it call. 'Steal!' foh! a fico
    for the phrase!

FALSTAFF

    Well, sirs, I am almost out at heels.

PISTOL

    Why, then, let kibes ensue.

FALSTAFF

    There is no remedy; I must cony-catch; I must shift.

PISTOL

    Young ravens must have food.

FALSTAFF

    Which of you know Ford of this town?

PISTOL

    I ken the wight: he is of substance good.

FALSTAFF

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

PISTOL

    Two yards, and more.

FALSTAFF

    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 behavior, to be Englished
    rightly, is, 'I am Sir John Falstaff's.'

PISTOL

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

NYM

    The anchor is deep: will that humour pass?

FALSTAFF

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

PISTOL

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

NYM

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

FALSTAFF

    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.

PISTOL

    Then did the sun on dunghill shine.

NYM

    I thank thee for that humour.

FALSTAFF

    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.

PISTOL

    Shall I Sir Pandarus 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 havior of reputation.

FALSTAFF

    [To ROBIN] Hold, sirrah, bear you these letters tightly;
    Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores.
    Rogues, hence, avaunt! vanish like hailstones, go;
    Trudge, plod away o' the hoof; seek shelter, pack!
    Falstaff will learn the humour of the age,
    French thrift, you rogues; myself and skirted page.

    Exeunt FALSTAFF and ROBIN

PISTOL

    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.

PISTOL

    Wilt thou revenge?

NYM

    By welkin and her star!

PISTOL

    With wit or steel?

NYM

    With both the humours, I:
    I will discuss the humour of this love to Page.

PISTOL

    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 humour 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 humour.

PISTOL

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

    Exeunt

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