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- William Shakespeare: Merry Wives of Windsor, Act I, Scene III
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Scene IIIA room in the Garter InnEnter Falstaff, Host, Bardolph, Nym, Pistol, and RobinFalstaffMine host of the Garter!HostWhat says my bully-rook? speak scholarly and wisely.FalstaffTruly, mine host, I must turn away some of my followers.HostDiscard, bully Hercules; cashier: let them wag; trot, trot.FalstaffI sit at ten pounds a week.HostThou’rt an emperor, Caesar, Keisar, and Pheezar. I will entertain Bardolph; he shall draw, he shall tap: said I well, bully Hector?FalstaffDo so, good mine host.HostI have spoke; let him follow.To BardolphLet me see thee froth and lime: I am at a word; follow.ExitFalstaffBardolph, follow him. A tapster is a good trade: an old cloak makes a new jerkin; a withered serving-man a fresh tapster. Go; adieu.BardolphIt is a life that I have desired: I will thrive.PistolO base Hungarian wight! wilt thou the spigot wield?Exit BardolphNymHe was gotten in drink: is not the humour conceited?FalstaffI 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.NymThe good humour is to steal at a minute’s rest.Pistol’Convey,’ the wise it call. ‘Steal!’ foh! a fico for the phrase!FalstaffWell, sirs, I am almost out at heels.PistolWhy, then, let kibes ensue.FalstaffThere is no remedy; I must cony-catch; I must shift.PistolYoung ravens must have food.FalstaffWhich of you know Ford of this town?PistolI ken the wight: he is of substance good.FalstaffMy honest lads, I will tell you what I am about.PistolTwo yards, and more.FalstaffNo 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.‘PistolHe hath studied her will, and translated her will, out of honesty into English.NymThe anchor is deep: will that humour pass?FalstaffNow, the report goes she has all the rule of her husband’s purse: he hath a legion of angels.PistolAs many devils entertain; and ‘To her, boy,’ say I.NymThe humour rises; it is good: humour me the angels.FalstaffI 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.PistolThen did the sun on dunghill shine.NymI thank thee for that humour.FalstaffO, 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.PistolShall I Sir Pandarus of Troy become, And by my side wear steel? then, Lucifer take all!NymI will run no base humour: here, take the humour-letter: I will keep the havior of reputation.FalstaffTo RobinHold, 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 RobinPistolLet 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!NymI have operations which be humours of revenge.PistolWilt thou revenge?NymBy welkin and her star!PistolWith wit or steel?NymWith both the humours, I: I will discuss the humour of this love to Page.PistolAnd I to Ford shall eke unfold How Falstaff, varlet vile, His dove will prove, his gold will hold, And his soft couch defile.NymMy 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.PistolThou art the Mars of malecontents: I second thee; troop on.Exeunt
William Shakespeare: Merry Wives of Windsor, Act I
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William Shakespeare: Merry Wives of Windsor, Act II
- William Shakespeare: Merry Wives of Windsor, Act II
TrendingHere are the facts and trivia that people are buzzing about.
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The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales
TrendingHere are the facts and trivia that people are buzzing about.
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The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales
- Did Birds Evolve from Dinosaurs?
- The Twelve Dancing Princesses
- Current Events This Week: January 2023
- African Americans by the Numbers
- Andersen’s Fairy Tales: Contents
- The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales
