The Merry Wives of Windsor - William Shakespeare (best books to read ever .txt) 📗

cheese to come. Exeunt. Scene III

A room in the Garter Inn.

Enter Falstaff, Host, Bardolph, Nym, Pistol, and Robin. Falstaff Sets down his cup of sack. Mine host of the Garter! Host Turns. 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, Keiser, and Pheazar. 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 Host. 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 minim’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 behaviour, 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 cheator 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. To Pistol. Go, bear thou this letter to Mistress Page; To Nym. 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 haviour of reputation. They throw letters on the table. Falstaff

Rising. 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’ hoof; seek shelter, pack!
Falstaff will learn the humour of this 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 beguile the rich and poor;
Tester I’ll have in pouch when thou shalt lack,
Base Phrygian Turk!

Nym I have operations in my head 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 malcontents; I second thee; troop on. Exeunt. Scene IV

A room in Doctor Caius’s house, a door in back leading to a small closet; two other doors, one leading to the street with a window beside it.

Enter Mistress Quickly and Simple. Mistress Quickly Calling. What, John Rugby! Enter 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 anybody in the house, here will be an old abusing of God’s patience and the King’s English. Rugby I’ll go watch. Mistress Quickly Go; and we’ll have a posset for’t soon at night, in faith, at the latter end of a sea-coal fire. Rugby goes to window. An honest, willing, kind fellow, as ever servant shall come in house withal; and, I warrant you, no telltale nor no breed-bate; his worst fault is that he is given to prayer; he is something peevish that way; but nobody but has his fault; but let that pass. Peter Simple