Act V, Scene 3

Gloucestershire. SHALLOW’S orchard

Enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, SILENCE, BARDOLPH, the PAGE, and DAVY

• Robert Shallow. Nay, you shall see my orchard, where, in an arbour, we 3395
  will eat a last year's pippin of mine own graffing, with a
  of caraways, and so forth. Come, cousin Silence. And then to

• Falstaff. Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling and rich. 3400

• Robert Shallow. Barren, barren, barren; beggars all, beggars all, Sir
  -marry, good air. Spread, Davy, spread, Davy; well said,

• Falstaff. This Davy serves you for good uses; he is your 3405
  serving-man and your husband.

• Robert Shallow. A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good varlet, Sir
  John. By the mass, I have drunk too much sack at supper. A
  varlet. Now sit down, now sit down; come, cousin.

• Silence. Ah, sirrah! quoth-a—we shall [Singing]
  Do nothing but eat and make good cheer,
  And praise God for the merry year;
  When flesh is cheap and females dear,
  And lusty lads roam here and there, 3415
  So merrily,
  And ever among so merrily.

• Falstaff. There's a merry heart! Good Master Silence, I'll give
  a health for that anon.

• Robert Shallow. Give Master Bardolph some wine, Davy.

• Davy. Sweet sir, sit; I'll be with you anon; most sweet sir,
  Master Page, good Master Page, sit. Proface! What you want in
  meat, we'll have in drink. But you must bear; the heart's

• Robert Shallow. Be merry, Master Bardolph; and, my little soldier
  be merry.

• Silence. [Singing]
  Be merry, be merry, my wife has all;
  For women are shrews, both short and tall;
  'Tis merry in hall when beards wag an;
  And welcome merry Shrove-tide. 3435
  Be merry, be merry.

• Falstaff. I did not think Master Silence had been a man of this
  mettle.

• Silence. Who, I? I have been merry twice and once ere now.

Re-enter DAVY

• Davy. [To BARDOLPH] There's a dish of leather-coats for you.

• Robert Shallow. Davy!

• Davy. Your worship! I'll be with you straight. [To BARDOLPH]
  A cup of wine, sir?

• Silence. [Singing] 3445
  A cup of wine that's brisk and fine,
  And drink unto the leman mine;
  And a merry heart lives long-a.

• Falstaff. Well said, Master Silence.

• Silence. An we shall be merry, now comes in the sweet o' th' 3450

• Falstaff. Health and long life to you, Master Silence!

• Silence. [Singing]
  Fill the cup, and let it come,
  I'll pledge you a mile to th' bottom. 3455

• Robert Shallow. Honest Bardolph, welcome; if thou want'st anything and
  wilt not call, beshrew thy heart. Welcome, my little tiny
  and welcome indeed too. I'll drink to Master Bardolph, and to
  the cabileros about London.

• Davy. I hope to see London once ere I die.

• Bardolph. An I might see you there, Davy!

• Robert Shallow. By the mass, you'll crack a quart together—ha! will
  not, Master Bardolph? 3465

• Bardolph. Yea, sir, in a pottle-pot.

• Robert Shallow. By God's liggens, I thank thee. The knave will stick
  thee, I can assure thee that. 'A will not out, 'a; 'tis true
  bred. 3470

• Bardolph. And I'll stick by him, sir.

• Robert Shallow. Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing; be merry.
  [One knocks at door] Look who's at door there, ho! Who

Exit DAVY

• Falstaff. [To SILENCE, who has drunk a bumper] Why, now you
  done me right.

• Silence. [Singing] 3480
  Do me right,
  And dub me knight.
  Samingo.
  Is't not so?

• Falstaff. 'Tis so. 3485

• Silence. Is't so? Why then, say an old man can do somewhat.

Re-enter DAVY

• Davy. An't please your worship, there's one Pistol come from
  court with news.

• Falstaff. From the court? Let him come in.
  [Enter PISTOL]
  How now, Pistol?

• Pistol. Sir John, God save you!

• Falstaff. What wind blew you hither, Pistol? 3495

• Pistol. Not the ill wind which blows no man to good. Sweet
  thou art now one of the greatest men in this realm.

• Silence. By'r lady, I think 'a be, but goodman Puff of Barson.

• Pistol. Puff! 3500
  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. 3505

• Falstaff. I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of this

• Pistol. A foutra for the world and worldlings base!
  I speak of Africa and golden joys.

• Falstaff. O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news? 3510
  Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof.

• Silence. [Singing] And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John.

• Pistol. Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons?
  And shall good news be baffled?
  Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies' lap. 3515

• Robert Shallow. Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding.

• Pistol. Why, then, lament therefore.

• Robert Shallow. Give me pardon, sir. If, sir, you come with news from
  court, I take it there's but two ways—either to utter them
  conceal them. I am, sir, under the King, in some authority. 3520

• Pistol. Under which king, Bezonian? Speak, or die.

• Robert Shallow. Under King Harry.

• Pistol. Harry the Fourth—or Fifth? 3525

• Robert Shallow. Harry the Fourth.

• Pistol. A foutra for thine office!
  Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is King;
  Harry the Fifth's the man. I speak the truth.
  When Pistol lies, do this; and fig me, like 3530
  The bragging Spaniard.

• Falstaff. What, is the old king dead?

• Pistol. As nail in door. The things I speak are just.

• Falstaff. Away, Bardolph! saddle my horse. Master Robert
  choose what office thou wilt in the land, 'tis thine. Pistol, 3535
  will double-charge thee with dignities.

• Bardolph. O joyful day!
  I would not take a knighthood for my fortune. 3540

• Pistol. What, I do bring good news?

• Falstaff. Carry Master Silence to bed. Master Shallow, my Lord
  Shallow, be what thou wilt—I am Fortune's steward. Get on
  boots; we'll ride all night. O sweet Pistol! Away, Bardolph!
  [Exit BARDOLPH] Come, Pistol, utter more to me; and withal 3545
  devise something to do thyself good. Boot, boot, Master
  I know the young King is sick for me. Let us take any man's
  horses: the laws of England are at my commandment. Blessed
  they that have been my friends; and woe to my Lord Chief

• Pistol. Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also!
  'Where is the life that late I led?' say they. 3555
  Why, here it is; welcome these pleasant days! Exeunt