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SHALLOW. 'A must, then, to the Inns o' Court shortly. I was once of Clement's Inn; where I think they will talk of mad Shallow yet.
SILENCE. You were call'd 'l.u.s.ty Shallow' then, cousin.
SHALLOW. By the ma.s.s, I was call'd anything; and I would have done anything indeed too, and roundly too. There was I, and little John Doit of Staffordshire, and black George Barnes, and Francis Pickbone, and Will Squele a Cotsole man- you had not four such swinge-bucklers in all the Inns of Court again. And I may say to you we knew where the bona-robas were, and had the best of them all at commandment. Then was Jack Falstaff, now Sir John, boy, and page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk.
SILENCE. This Sir John, cousin, that comes. .h.i.ther anon about soldiers?
SHALLOW. The same Sir John, the very same. I see him break Scoggin's head at the court gate, when 'a was a crack not thus high; and the very same day did I fight with one Sampson Stockfish, a fruiterer, behind Gray's Inn. Jesu, Jesu, the mad days that I have spent! and to see how many of my old acquaintance are dead!
SILENCE. We shall all follow, cousin.
SHALLOW. Certain, 'tis certain; very sure, very sure. Death, as the Psalmist saith, is certain to all; all shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at Stamford fair?
SILENCE. By my troth, I was not there.
SHALLOW. Death is certain. Is old Double of your town living yet?
SILENCE. Dead, sir.
SHALLOW. Jesu, Jesu, dead! drew a good bow; and dead! 'A shot a fine shoot. John a Gaunt loved him well, and betted much money on his head. Dead! 'A would have clapp'd i' th' clout at twelve score, and carried you a forehand shaft a fourteen and fourteen and a half, that it would have done a man's heart good to see.
How a score of ewes now?
SILENCE. Thereafter as they be- a score of good ewes may be worth ten pounds.
SHALLOW. And is old Double dead?
Enter BARDOLPH, and one with him
SILENCE. Here come two of Sir John Falstaffs men, as I think.
SHALLOW. Good morrow, honest gentlemen.
BARDOLPH. I beseech you, which is Justice Shallow?
SHALLOW. I am Robert Shallow, sir, a poor esquire of this county, and one of the King's justices of the peace. What is your good pleasure with me?
BARDOLPH. My captain, sir, commends him to you; my captain, Sir John Falstaff- a tall gentleman, by heaven, and a most gallant leader.
SHALLOW. He greets me well, sir; I knew him a good back-sword man.
How doth the good knight? May I ask how my lady his wife doth?
BARDOLPH. Sir, pardon; a soldier is better accommodated than with a wife.
SHALLOW. It is well said, in faith, sir; and it is well said indeed too. 'Better accommodated!' It is good; yea, indeed, is it. Good phrases are surely, and ever were, very commendable.
'Accommodated!' It comes of accommodo. Very good; a good phrase.
BARDOLPH. Pardon, sir; I have heard the word. 'Phrase' call you it?
By this day, I know not the phrase; but I will maintain the word with my sword to be a soldier-like word, and a word of exceeding good command, by heaven. Accommodated: that is, when a man is, as they say, accommodated; or, when a man is being-whereby 'a may be thought to be accommodated; which is an excellent thing.
Enter FALSTAFF
SHALLOW. It is very just. Look, here comes good Sir John. Give me your good hand, give me your worship's good hand. By my troth, you like well and bear your years very well. Welcome, good Sir John.
FALSTAFF. I am glad to see you well, good Master Robert Shallow.
Master Surecard, as I think?
SHALLOW. No, Sir John; it is my cousin Silence, in commission with me.
FALSTAFF. Good Master Silence, it well befits you should be of the peace.
SILENCE. Your good worship is welcome.
FALSTAFF. Fie! this is hot weather. Gentlemen, have you provided me here half a dozen sufficient men?
SHALLOW. Marry, have we, sir. Will you sit?
FALSTAFF. Let me see them, I beseech you.
SHALLOW. Where's the roll? Where's the roll? Where's the roll? Let me see, let me see, let me see. So, so, so, so,- so, so- yea, marry, sir. Rafe Mouldy! Let them appear as I call; let them do so, let them do so. Let me see; where is Mouldy?
MOULDY. Here, an't please you.
SHALLOW. What think you, Sir John? A good-limb'd fellow; young, strong, and of good friends.
FALSTAFF. Is thy name Mouldy?
MOULDY. Yea, an't please you.
FALSTAFF. 'Tis the more time thou wert us'd.
SHALLOW. Ha, ha, ha! most excellent, i' faith! Things that are mouldy lack use. Very singular good! In faith, well said, Sir John; very well said.
FALSTAFF. p.r.i.c.k him.
MOULDY. I was p.r.i.c.k'd well enough before, an you could have let me alone. My old dame will be undone now for one to do her husbandry and her drudgery. You need not to have p.r.i.c.k'd me; there are other men fitter to go out than I.
FALSTAFF. Go to; peace, Mouldy; you shall go. Mouldy, it is time you were spent.
MOULDY. Spent!
SHALLOW. Peace, fellow, peace; stand aside; know you where you are?
For th' other, Sir John- let me see. Simon Shadow!
FALSTAFF. Yea, marry, let me have him to sit under. He's like to be a cold soldier.
SHALLOW. Where's Shadow?
SHADOW. Here, sir.
FALSTAFF. Shadow, whose son art thou?
SHADOW. My mother's son, sir.
FALSTAFF. Thy mother's son! Like enough; and thy father's shadow.
So the son of the female is the shadow of the male. It is often so indeed; but much of the father's substance!
SHALLOW. Do you like him, Sir John?
FALSTAFF. Shadow will serve for summer. p.r.i.c.k him; for we have a number of shadows fill up the muster-book.
SHALLOW. Thomas Wart!
FALSTAFF. Where's he?
WART. Here, sir.
FALSTAFF. Is thy name Wart?
WART. Yea, sir.
FALSTAFF. Thou art a very ragged wart.
SHALLOW. Shall I p.r.i.c.k him, Sir John?
FALSTAFF. It were superfluous; for his apparel is built upon his back, and the whole frame stands upon pins. p.r.i.c.k him no more.
SHALLOW. Ha, ha, ha! You can do it, sir; you can do it. I commend you well. Francis Feeble!
FEEBLE. Here, sir.
FALSTAFF. What trade art thou, Feeble?
FEEBLE. A woman's tailor, sir.
SHALLOW. Shall I p.r.i.c.k him, sir?
FALSTAFF. You may; but if he had been a man's tailor, he'd ha'
p.r.i.c.k'd you. Wilt thou make as many holes in an enemy's battle as thou hast done in a woman's petticoat?
FEEBLE. I will do my good will, sir; you can have no more.
FALSTAFF. Well said, good woman's tailor! well said, courageous Feeble! Thou wilt be as valiant as the wrathful dove or most magnanimous mouse. p.r.i.c.k the woman's tailor- well, Master Shallow, deep, Master Shallow.
FEEBLE. I would Wart might have gone, sir.
FALSTAFF. I would thou wert a man's tailor, that thou mightst mend him and make him fit to go. I cannot put him to a private soldier, that is the leader of so many thousands. Let that suffice, most forcible Feeble.
FEEBLE. It shall suffice, sir.
FALSTAFF. I am bound to thee, reverend Feeble. Who is next?
SHALLOW. Peter Bullcalf o' th' green!
FALSTAFF. Yea, marry, let's see Bullcalf.
BULLCALF. Here, sir.
FALSTAFF. Fore G.o.d, a likely fellow! Come, p.r.i.c.k me Bullcalf till he roar again.
BULLCALF. O Lord! good my lord captain- FALSTAFF. What, dost thou roar before thou art p.r.i.c.k'd?
BULLCALF. O Lord, sir! I am a diseased man.
FALSTAFF. What disease hast thou?
BULLCALF. A wh.o.r.eson cold, sir, a cough, sir, which I caught with ringing in the King's affairs upon his coronation day, sir.
FALSTAFF. Come, thou shalt go to the wars in a gown. We will have away thy cold; and I will take such order that thy friends shall ring for thee. Is here all?
SHALLOW. Here is two more call'd than your number. You must have but four here, sir; and so, I pray you, go in with me to dinner.
FALSTAFF. Come, I will go drink with you, but I cannot tarry dinner. I am glad to see you, by my troth, Master Shallow.
SHALLOW. O, Sir John, do you remember since we lay all night in the windmill in Saint George's Field?
FALSTAFF. No more of that, Master Shallow, no more of that.
SHALLOW. Ha, 'twas a merry night. And is Jane Nightwork alive?
FALSTAFF. She lives, Master Shallow.
SHALLOW. She never could away with me.