SCENE III.

Changes to Justice Shallow's Seat in Gloucefterfhire.

Enter Shallow and Silence, Justices; with Mouldy, Shadow, Wart, Feeble, and Bull-calf.

Shal.

COM

NOME on, come on, come on; give me
your hand, Sir; an early ftirrer, by the
rood.

And how doth my good coufin Silence?
Sil. Good morrow, good coufin Shallow.

Shal. And how doth my coufin, your bed-fellow? and your fairest daughter, and mine, my god-daughter Ellen?

Sil. Alas, a black ouzel, coufin Shallow.

Shal. By yea, and nay, Sir, I dare fay, my coufin William is become a good fcholar. He is at Oxford ftill, is he not?

Sil. Indeed, Sir, to my cost.

Shal. He must then to the Inns of Court fhortly. I was once of Clement's Inn; where, I think, they will talk of mad Shallow yet.

Sil. You were call'd lufty Shallow then, cousin.

Shal. I was call'd any thing, and I would have done any thing, indeed, too, and roundly too. There was I, and little John Doit of Staffordshire, and black George Bare, and Francis Pickbone, and Will Squele a Cotswold man, you had not four fuch swinge-bucklers in all the Inns of Court again; and I may fay to you, we knew where the Bona-Roba's were, and had the best of them all at commandment. Then was Jack Falstaff, now Sir John, a boy, and page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk.

Sil. This Sir John, coufin, that comes hither anon about Soldiers?

Shal. The fame Sir John, the very fame. I faw him break Schoggan's head at the Court-gate, when he was a crack, not thus high; and the very fame day I did fight with one Sampfon Stockfish, a fruiterer, behind Gray's-Inn. O the mad days that I have spent! and to fee how many of mine old acquaintance are dead? Sil. We fhall all follow, cousin.

Shal. Certain, 'tis certain, very fure, very fure. Death (as the Pfalmist faith) is certain to all, all shall die. How a good yoke of Bullocks at Stamford Fair? Sil. Truly, coufin, I was not there.

Shal. Death is certain. Is old Double of your town living yet?

Sil. Dead, Sir.

Shal. Dead !-fee, fee-he drew a good bow. And dead?-he shot a fine fhoot. John of Gaunt loved him well, and betted much money on his head. Dead!-he would have clapt in the clowt at twelve fcore, and carried you a fore hand shaft a ' fourteen and fourteen and a half, that it would have done a man's heart good to fee. -How a score of ewes now?

9

Sil. Thereafter as they be. A fcore of good ewes may be worth ten pounds.

Shal. And is old Double dead?

SCENE IV.

Enter Bardolph, and Page.

Sil. Here come two of Sir John Falstaff's men, as I think.

9

Shal. Good morrow, honeft gentlemen.

Bard. I befeech you, which is Juftice Shallow?

-clapt in the clowt] i. e. a half] That is, fourteen fcore hit the white mark. WARBURT. of yards.

! — fourteen and fourteen and

U 3

Shal.

Shal. I am Robert Shallow, Sir, a poor Efquire of this Country, one of the King's Juftices of the peace. What is your good pleasure with me?

Bard. My captain, Sir, commends him to you, my captain Sir John Falstaff; a tall gentleman, by heav'n! and a most gallant leader.

Shal. He greets me well Sir, I knew him a good back-fword man. How doth the good Knight? may I afk, how my lady his wife doth?

Bard. Sir, pardon, a foldier is better accommodated than with a wife.

Shal. It is well faid, Sir; and it is well faid indeed too, better accommodated it is good, yea, indeed, is it; good phrafes, furely, are, and ever were, very commendable. Accommodated-it comes of accommodo; very good, a good phrafe.

2

Bard. Pardon me, Sir, I have heard the word. Phrafe, call you it? By this day, I know not the phrafe, but I will maintain the word with my fword, to be a foldier-like word, and a word of exceeding good command. Accommodated, that is, when a man is, as they fay, accommodated; or, when a man is, being whereby he may be thought to be accommodated, which is an excellent thing.

SCENE V.

Enter Falftaff.

Shal. It is very juft.-Look, here comes good Sir John. Give me your good hand: give me your Worfhip's good hand. Trust me, you look well, and bear your years very well. Welcome, good Sir John.

Fal. I am glad to fee you well, good mafter Robert Shallow-Matter Sure-card, as I think,

Shal. No, Sir John, it is my cousin Silence; in Commiffion with me.

Fal. Good mafter Silence, it well befits, you fhould be of the peace.

Sil. Your good Worship is welcome. [Embraces him. Fal. Fie, this is hot weather.-Gentlemen; have you provided me here half a dozen of fufficient men? Shal. Marry, have we, Sir. Will you fit? Fal. Let me fee them, 1 befeech you.

Shal. Where's the roll? where's the roll? where's the roll? Let me fee, let me fee, let me fee. So, fo, fo, fo. Yea, marry, Sir. Ralph Mouldy:- let them appear as I call. Let them do fo, let them do fo. Let me fee, where is Mouldy?

Moul. Here, if it please you.

Shal. What think you, Sir John? a good limb'd fellow young, ftrong, and of good friends. Fal. Is thy name Mouldy?

Moul. Yea, if it please you.

Fal. 'Tis the more time thou wert us'd.

Shal. Ha, ha, ha, most excellent, i'faith. Things, that are mouldy, lack use. Very fingular good. Well faid, Sir John, very well faid.

Fal. Prick him.

Moul. I was prickt well enough before, if you could have let me alone. My old dame will be undone now for one to do her husbandry, and her drudgery; you

U 4

need

need not to have prickt me, there are other men fitter

to go out than I.

Fal. Go to: peace, Mouldy, you shall

it is time you were spent.

Moul. Spent?

go. Mouldy,

Shal. Peace, fellow, peace. Stand afide. Know you where you are? For the other, Sir John.-Let me feeSimon Shadow.

Fal. Ay, marry, let me have him to fit under: he's like to be a cold foldier.

Shal. Where's Shadow 2

Shad. Here, Sir.

Fal. Shadow, whofe fon art thou?

Shad. My mother's fon, Sir.

Fal. Thy mother's fon! like enough; and thy father's fhadow; fo the fon of the female is the fhadow of the male; it is often fo, indeed, but not of the father's fubftance.

Shal. Do you like him, Sir John?

Fal. Shadow will ferve for fummer; prick him for we have a number of fhadows do fill up the mufterbook. 3

Shal. Thomas Wart.

Fal. Where's he?

Wart. Here, Sir.

Fal. Is thy name Wart?

Wart. Yea, Sir.

Fal. Thou art a very ragged wart.

Shal. Shall I prick him down, Sir John?

Fal. It were fuperfluous; for his apparel is built upon his back, and the whole frame stands upon pins; prick him no more.

Shal. Ha, ha, ha.-You can do it, Sir; you can do it I commend you well.

3 we have a number of fhadows do fill up the mufter-book.] That is, we have in the mufter

Francis Feeble.

book many names for which we receive pay, though we have not the men.

Feeble.