Previous
Act 3, Scene 1
Henry IV, Part 2 Translation Act 3, Scene 2
Enter Justice SHALLOW and Justice SILENCE, with MOULDY, SHADOW, WART, FEEBLE, BULLCALF, and a servant or two
SHALLOW
Come on, come on, come on. Give me your hand, sir, giveme your hand, sir. An early stirrer, by the rood. And how doth my good cousin Silence?
SHALLOW
Come on, come on, come on. Shake my hand, sir, shake my hand. You're an early riser, by the Holy Cross. How are you, Silence?
SILENCE
Good morrow, good cousin Shallow.
SILENCE
Good morning, good cousin Shallow.
SHALLOW
And how doth my cousin your bedfellow? And your fairestdaughter and mine, my goddaughter Ellen?
SHALLOW
How is my cousin, your wife? And how is your beautiful daughter, my lovely goddaughter Ellen?
SILENCE
Alas, a black ousel, cousin Shallow.
SILENCE
Sadly she's got dark hair, Shallow!
SHALLOW
By yea and no, sir. I dare say my cousin William is become a good scholar. He is at Oxford still, is he not?
SHALLOW
You win some, you lose some, sir. Well, I bet that William has become a good scholar. He's still at Oxford, right?
SILENCE
Indeed, sir, to my cost.
SILENCE
He is, sir—and I'm still having to pay for it.
SHALLOW
He 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.
SHALLOW
He must be moving on to study law soon. I once studied at Clement's Inn, and they still talk about crazy Shallow, even today.
SILENCE
You were called “Lusty Shallow” then, cousin.
SILENCE
I thought you were called, "Lively Shallow" back then, cousin.
SHALLOW
By the Mass, I was called 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 Cotswold man. You had not four such swinge-bucklers in all the Inns o' 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, a boy, and page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk.
SHALLOW
By God, I was called anything they wanted to call me, and I would have done anything as well, without a fuss. There was me, little John Doit from Staffordshire, the dark-haired George Barnes, Francis Pickbone, and Will Squele, from the Cotswolds. Since then, in all of the Inns of Court there have been no four swashbucklers quite like us. Yet, let me tell you, we knew where to find prostitutes, and we had the best of them at our beck and call. Back then, John Falstaff—now Sir John—was just a boy and was working as a page for Thomas Mowbray, the Duke of Norfolk.
SILENCE
This Sir John, cousin, that comes hither anon about soldiers?
SILENCE
The same Sir John that's on his way here to recruit some soldiers?
SHALLOW
The same Sir John, the very same. I see him break Scoggin’s head at the court gate, when he was a crack not thus high; and the very same day did I fight with one Sampson Stockfish, a fruiterer, behind Grey’s Inn. Jesu, Jesu, the mad days that I have spent! And to see how many of my old acquaintance are dead.
SHALLOW
Yes, that Sir John—the very same. I saw him beat Scogan on the head at the gates of the court, when he was just a lad, only this tall. On that same day I happened to have a fight with a man called Sampson Stockfish, a fruit seller, behind Gray's Inn. Oh Jesus, Jesus, I've had some wild times! And now so many of the men I used to know are dead.
SILENCE
We shall all follow, cousin.
SILENCE
That will be us one day.
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?
SHALLOW
You're right, I know you're right—that's for sure. As the Psalms say in the Bible, "death is certain." Everyone will die. What price are people charging for a good set of young bulls at Stamford Fair?
SILENCE
By my troth, cousin, I was not there.
SILENCE
I'm not sure, I wasn't there.
SHALLOW
Death is certain. Is old Dooble of your town living yet?
SHALLOW
Death is certain. Is Dooble, that old man from your hometown, still alive?
SILENCE
Dead, sir.
SILENCE
He's dead, sir.
SHALLOW
Jesu, Jesu, dead! He drew a good bow, and dead? He shota fine shoot. John o' Gaunt loved him well, and betted much money on his head. Dead! He would have clapped 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 ewesnow?
SHALLOW
Jesus, Jesus, dead! He was such a good archer, and now he's dead? He had an excellent shot! John of Gaunt loved him, and used to bet money on his incredible aim. Dead! Oh, he would have hit the target even from two hundred forty yards away! He could shoot straight at the target from two hundred eighty yards away, maybe even two hundred ninety—it was quite something to see! How much are they charging for twenty ewes now?
SILENCE
Thereafter as they be, a score of good ewes may be worth ten pounds.
SILENCE
That all depends on their quality, but twenty good ewes would be worth about ten pounds.
SHALLOW
And is old Dooble dead?
SHALLOW
But old Dooble is dead?
SILENCE
Here come two of Sir John Falstaff’s men, as I think.
SILENCE
Here come two of Sir John Falstaff's men, I think.
Enter BARDOLPH and one with him
SHALLOW
Good morrow, honest gentlemen.
SHALLOW
Good morning, honorable gentlemen.
BARDOLPH
I beseech you, which is Justice Shallow?
BARDOLPH
Please, which of you is Justice Shallow?
SHALLOW
I am Robert Shallow, sir, a poor esquire of this countyand one of the King’s justices of the peace. What is your good pleasure with me?
SHALLOW
Sir, I am Robert Shallow—a poor gentleman of this country and one of the King's justices of the peace. What can I do for you?
BARDOLPH
My captain, sir, commends him to you, my captain, Sir John Falstaff, a tall gentleman, by heaven, and a most gallant leader.
BARDOLPH
My captain sends you his regards, sir. My captain is Sir John Falstaff. He is a brave gentleman and an excellent leader, I can tell you that.
SHALLOW
He greets me well, sir. I knew him a good backsword man. How doth the good knight? May I ask how my lady hiswife doth?
SHALLOW
It's good to hear from him. I knew him when he was a good fencer. How is the good knight? And if you don't mind me asking, how is his wife?
BARDOLPH
Sir, pardon. A soldier is better accommodated than witha wife.
BARDOLPH
Sorry, sir. A soldier doesn't need a wife—he is already accommodated with everything he needs.
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.
SHALLOW
Well said, indeed, sir. Well said, indeed. "Accommodated with everything he needs." That's good, indeed. That's very good. Good phrases always deserve praise. Even the word, "Accommodated." It comes from the Latin word, "accommodo." Very good, a very 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 soldierlike 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 he may be thought to be accommodated, which is an excellent thing.
BARDOLPH
Sorry, sir. I know the word "accommodated"—but you call it a good phrase? I don't know anything about phrases. But I am certain that the word, "accommodated" is a good word—a word used by soldiers, an extremely good military term, that's certain. "Accommodated." You can say that a man is accommodated when he has been given what he needs, or when he is actually been given just what he needs, 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.
SHALLOW
Quite right. Look, here comes good Sir John.
[To FALSTAFF] Let me shake your good hand, let me shake your hand. Honestly, you look very well and like you haven't aged a bit. Welcome, good Sir John.
FALSTAFF
I am glad to see you well, good Master Robert Shallow.—Master Sure-card, as I think?
FALSTAFF
I am glad to see you're well, good Master Robert Shallow. And this must be Master Sure-card, I think?
SHALLOW
No, Sir John. It is my cousin Silence, in commission with me.
SHALLOW
No, Sir John. This is my cousin Silence, another justice of the peace.
FALSTAFF
Good Master Silence, it well befits you should be of the peace.
FALSTAFF
Good Master Silence, your name is very apt for a justice of the peace.
SILENCE
Your good Worship is welcome.
SILENCE
You are welcome here, your Worship.
FALSTAFF
Fie, this is hot weather, gentlemen. Have you provided me here half a dozen sufficient men?
FALSTAFF
Damn, it's hot outside, gentleman. Have you managed to find at least six men to be soldiers for me?
SHALLOW
Marry, have we, sir. Will you sit?
SHALLOW
Indeed we have, sir. Would you like to sit down?
FALSTAFF
Let me see them, I beseech you.
FALSTAFF
Let me see them, please.
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, so. Yea, marry, sir. —Rafe Mouldy! —Let them appear asI call, let them do so, let them do so. Let me see, where is Mouldy?
SHALLOW
Where's the list? Where's the list? Where's the list? Let me see, let me see, let me see. So, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so. Right, yes, indeed.
[To MOULDY] Ralph Mouldy!
[To the recruits] Come as I call your names! Do that, make sure you do that. Let's see then, where's Mouldy?!
MOULDY
Here, an it please you.
MOULDY
Here, sir.
SHALLOW
What think you, Sir John? A good-limbed fellow; young, strong, and of good friends.
SHALLOW
What do you think, Sir John? He's got a good physique. He's young, strong, and from a good family.
FALSTAFF
Is thy name Mouldy?
FALSTAFF
Is your name Mouldy?
MOULDY
Yea, an ’t please you.
MOULDY
Yes, sir.
FALSTAFF
'Tis the more time thou wert used.
FALSTAFF
Well, then it's time you were put to good use.
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.
SHALLOW
Ha, ha, ha, an excellent joke, indeed! Things get moldy when they aren't used. Good one, I swear. Well said, Sir John, very well said.
FALSTAFF
Prick him.
FALSTAFF
Prick him.
MOULDY
I was pricked well enough before, an you could have letme alone. My old dame will be undone now for one to do her husbandry and her drudgery. You need not to have pricked me. There are other men fitter to go out than I.
MOULDY
I have been pricked enough times before, when you could have just left me alone. My old lady will be ruined now, without anyone to do her farming and her housework. You didn't need to prick me—there are men much fitter than I am who could have gone instead.
FALSTAFF
Go to. Peace, Mouldy. You shall go. Mouldy, it is time you were spent.
FALSTAFF
That's enough. Be quiet, Mouldy. You will go, Mouldy—it's time that you were used up.
MOULDY
Spent?
MOULDY
Used up?
SHALLOW
Peace, fellow, peace. Stand aside. Know you where you are? —For th' other, Sir John. Let me see. —Simon Shadow!
SHALLOW
Quiet, boy, quiet. Step aside. Don't you know where you are?
[To FALSTAFF] As for the others, Sir John, let's see who's next.
[To SHADOW] Simon Shadow!
FALSTAFF
Yea, marry, let me have him to sit under. He’s like to be a cold soldier.
FALSTAFF
Great, I can use him as something to sit under. I'm sure he'll be a cool soldier.
SHALLOW
Where’s Shadow?
SHALLOW
Where's Shadow?
SHADOW
Here, sir.
SHADOW
Here, sir.
FALSTAFF
Shadow, whose son art thou?
FALSTAFF
Shadow, whose son are you?
SHADOW
My mother’s son, sir.
SHADOW
I am 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.
FALSTAFF
Your mother's son! That makes sense, and your father's shadow. The woman's son is actually a true reflection of the male—that's often how it goes. But normally, the son doesn't have quite as much to him as the father does.
SHALLOW
Do you like him, Sir John?
SHALLOW
Do you approve of him, Sir John?
FALSTAFF
Shadow will serve for summer. Prick him, for we have a number of shadows to fill up the muster book.
FALSTAFF
Shadow will be worthwhile for the summer. Prick him, we're going to need a lot of shadows to fill up this list.
SHALLOW
Thomas Wart!
SHALLOW
Thomas Wart!
FALSTAFF
Where’s he?
FALSTAFF
Where is he?
WART
Here, sir.
WART
Here, sir.
FALSTAFF
Is thy name Wart?
FALSTAFF
Is your name Wart?
WART
Yea, sir.
WART
Yes, sir.
FALSTAFF
Thou art a very ragged wart.
FALSTAFF
You're a very rough wart.
SHALLOW
Shall I prick him down, Sir John?
SHALLOW
Shall I prick him on the list, Sir John?
FALSTAFF
It were superfluous, for his apparel is built upon his back, and the whole frame stands upon pins. Prick him nomore.
FALSTAFF
That's pointless. Can't you see, his clothing has been pieced together, and his whole body is being forced to stand up on two little pins. He's had enough pricking. Don't prick him anymore.
SHALLOW
Ha, ha, ha. You can do it, sir, you can do it. I commend you well.—Francis Feeble!
SHALLOW
Ha, ha, ha. That's good, sir, that's good. I have nothing but praise for you.
[To FEEBLE] Francis Feeble!
FEEBLE
Here, sir.
FEEBLE
Here, sir.
FALSTAFF
What trade art thou, Feeble?
FALSTAFF
What trade are you in, Feeble?
FEEBLE
A woman’s tailor, sir.
FEEBLE
I'm a woman's tailor, sir.
SHALLOW
Shall I prick him, sir?
SHALLOW
Shall I prick him, sir?
FALSTAFF
You may, but if he had been a man’s tailor, he’d ha' pricked you.—Wilt thou make as many holes in an enemy’s battle as thou hast done in a woman’s petticoat?
FALSTAFF
You can. But, if he had been a man's tailor, he would have pricked you himself already as he measured you for your clothes. Will you make as many holes in the army of the enemy as you have done in a woman's undergarments?
FEEBLE
I will do my good will, sir. You can have no more.
FEEBLE
I'll do what I can, sir. I can't do anymore than that.
FALSTAFF
Well said, good woman’s tailor, well said, courageous Feeble. Thou wilt be as valiant as the wrathful dove or most magnanimous mouse. —Prick the woman’s tailor well, Master Shallow, deep, Master Shallow.
FALSTAFF
Well said, good woman's tailor! Well said, brave Feeble! You will be as courageous as an angry dove—or the most fearless mouse. Prick the woman's tailor. Do it well, Master Shallow, do it deeply, Master Shallow.
FEEBLE
I would Wart might have gone, sir.
FEEBLE
I wish Wart were going, 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.
FALSTAFF
If you were a man's tailor, you could mend his clothes and make him prepared to go. I can't enlist him as a private soldier, when he is already a leader of thousands—thousands of vermin, that is. But forget about that now, most powerful Feeble.
FEEBLE
It shall suffice, sir.
FEEBLE
All right, I'll leave it, sir.
FALSTAFF
I am bound to thee, reverend Feeble.—Who is next?
FALSTAFF
I'm a fan of you, good Feeble.
[To SHALLOW] Who's next?
SHALLOW
Peter Bullcalf o' th' green.
SHALLOW
Peter Bullcalf from the Green.
FALSTAFF
Yea, marry, let’s see Bullcalf.
FALSTAFF
Oh, yes, let's see Bullcalf.
BULLCALF
Here, sir.
BULLCALF
Here, sir.
FALSTAFF
Fore God, a likely fellow. Come, prick me Bullcalf tillhe roar again.
FALSTAFF
By God, he's a good man, I can tell. Come on, prick Bullcalf for me until he shouts again.
BULLCALF
O Lord, good my lord captain—
BULLCALF
Oh Lord! My good lord and captain.
FALSTAFF
What, dost thou roar before thou art pricked?
FALSTAFF
What? Are you shouting before you've even been pricked?
BULLCALF
O Lord, sir, I am a diseased man.
BULLCALF
Oh Lord, sir, I'm a very sick man.
FALSTAFF
What disease hast thou?
FALSTAFF
What disease do you have?
BULLCALF
A whoreson cold, sir, a cough, sir, which I caught withringing in the King’s affairs upon his coronation day, sir.
BULLCALF
A horrible cold, sir. And a cough, sir, which I caught when I was ringing the bell for the anniversary of the King's coronation.
FALSTAFF
Come, thou shalt go to the wars in a gown. We will have away thy cold, and I will take such order that my friends shall ring for thee .— [to SHALLOW ] Is here all?
FALSTAFF
Come on, you will just have to go to war in a dressing gown. That will help to get rid of your cold, and I will make sure that some of my friends can ring the bell while you're away.
[to SHALLOW] Is that everyone?
SHALLOW
Here is two more called than your number. You must havebut four here, sir, and so I pray you go in with me to dinner.
SHALLOW
There's two more here than you said you needed. You can take four of them. Come on, let's go and have lunch now.
FALSTAFF
Come, I will go drink with you, but I cannot tarry dinner. I am glad to see you, by my troth, Master Shallow.
FALSTAFF
I will come and have a drink with you, but I don't have time to stay for lunch. It is good to see you, truly it is, Master Shallow.
SHALLOW
O, Sir John, do you remember since we lay all night in the windmill in Saint George’s Field?
SHALLOW
Oh, Sir John, do you remember when we spent a whole night in the windmill in Saint George's Field?
FALSTAFF
No more of that, good Master Shallow, no more of that.
FALSTAFF
Let's not talk about that, good Master Shallow. Let's not.
SHALLOW
Ha, ’twas a merry night. And is Jane Nightwork alive?
SHALLOW
Ha, it was a fun night! Is Jane Nightwork still alive?
FALSTAFF
She lives, Master Shallow.
FALSTAFF
She is, Master Shallow.
SHALLOW
She never could away with me.
SHALLOW
She could never put up with me.
FALSTAFF
Never, never; she would always say she could not abide Master Shallow.
FALSTAFF
Never, never. She always said that she just couldn't stand Master Shallow.
SHALLOW
By the Mass, I could anger her to th' heart. She was then a bona roba. Doth she hold her own well?
SHALLOW
By God, I could anger her to her very heart. She was one of the best whores. Does she still have it?
FALSTAFF
Old, old, Master Shallow.
FALSTAFF
She's old, very old now, Master Shallow.
SHALLOW
Nay, she must be old. She cannot choose but be old. Certain, she’s old, and had Robin Nightwork by old Nightwork before I came to Clement’s Inn.
SHALLOW
Well, of course she's old—she can't help that. Of course she's old. She gave birth to Robin Nightwork, the son of old Nightwork, before I even went to Clement's Inn.
SILENCE
That’s fifty-five year ago.
SILENCE
That's fifty-five years ago now.
SHALLOW
Ha, cousin Silence, that thou hadst seen that that thisknight and I have seen!—Ha, Sir John, said I well?
SHALLOW
Ha, cousin Silence. If you could have seen what this knight and I have seen!
[To FALSTAFF] Ha, Sir John, isn't that right?
FALSTAFF
We have heard the chimes at midnight, Master Shallow.
FALSTAFF
We've certainly seen the clock strike midnight a few times, Master Shallow.
SHALLOW
That we have, that we have, that we have. In faith, SirJohn, we have. Our watchword was “Hem, boys.” Come, let’s to dinner; come, let’s to dinner. Jesus, the days that we have seen! Come, come.
SHALLOW
We certainly have, we certainly have. Really, Sir John, we have. Our motto was "Down with it, boys!" Come on, let's go to lunch. Jesus, the things that we've seen. Come on, let's go.
Exeunt FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, and SILENCE
BULLCALF
Good Master Corporate Bardolph, stand my friend, and here’s four Harry ten-shillings in French crowns for you. In very truth, sir, I had as lief be hanged, sir, as go. And yet, for mine own part, sir, I do not care, but rather because I am unwilling, and, for mine own part, have a desire to stay with my friends. Else, sir, I did not care, for mine own part, so much.
BULLCALF
Good Master Corporate Bardolph, be my friend. And here's some French crowns for you, worth four Harry ten-shillings. Truthfully, sir, I would just as happily be hanged than go to war. It's not that I care about my own safety, that doesn't matter to me. It's just that I don't want to go. More than anything, I want to stay here with my friends. Other than that, sir, I really don't care about myself.
BARDOLPH
Go to. Stand aside.
BARDOLPH
Whatever you say. Stand aside now.
MOULDY
And, good Master Corporal Captain, for my old dame’s sake, stand my friend. She has nobody to do anything about her when I am gone, and she is old and cannot helpherself: You shall have forty, sir.
MOULDY
And, good Master Corporal Captain, for my old lady's sake, be my friend. She has no one else to help her do anything if I go, and she's old and can't take care of herself. I'll give you forty shillings, sir.
BARDOLPH
Go to. Stand aside.
BARDOLPH
Whatever you say. Stand aside now.
FEEBLE
By my troth, I care not. A man can die but once. We oweGod a death. I’ll ne'er bear a base mind. An ’t be my destiny, so; an ’t be not, so. No man’s too good to serve ’s prince, and let it go which way it will, he that dies this year is quit for the next.
FEEBLE
Truthfully, I don't care. A man can only die once, and at some point we all owe God a death. I'm not going to do anything that's wrong. If it's my fate, then that's that. If it's not, then that's fine too. No man is too good to fight for his Prince and his country. No matter how it goes, if a person dies this year, then it just means their debts are paid for next year.
BARDOLPH
Well said. Th' art a good fellow.
BARDOLPH
Very well said. You're a good man.
FEEBLE
Faith, I’ll bear no base mind.
FEEBLE
I'm telling the truth. I won't do anything dishonest.
Enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, and SILENCE
FALSTAFF
Come, sir, which men shall I have?
FALSTAFF
Come on then, sir, which men shall I have?
SHALLOW
Four of which you please.
SHALLOW
Whichever four you want.
BARDOLPH
Sir, a word with you. [aside to FALSTAFF] I have three pound to free Mouldy and Bullcalf.
BARDOLPH
Sir, can I have a word?
[To FALSTAFF so that only he can hear] I've been given three pounds to free Mouldy and Bullcalf.
FALSTAFF
Go to, well.
FALSTAFF
Right! That's fine!
SHALLOW
Come, Sir John, which four will you have?
SHALLOW
Come on, Sir John, which four men will you take?
FALSTAFF
Do you choose for me.
FALSTAFF
Why don't you choose for me?
SHALLOW
Marry, then, Mouldy, Bullcalf, Feeble, and Shadow.
SHALLOW
Okay then: Mouldy, Bullcalf, Feeble and Shadow.
FALSTAFF
Mouldy and Bullcalf! For you, Mouldy, stay at home tillyou are past service. —And for your part, Bullcalf, growtill you come unto it. I will none of you.
FALSTAFF
Mouldy and Bullcalf! You stay at home until you are too old to fight, Mouldy. And as for you, Bullcalf, you should stay at home and wait until you are old enough to fight. I don't want either of you.
Exeunt MOULDY and BULLCALF
SHALLOW
Sir John, Sir John, do not yourself wrong. They are your likeliest men, and I would have you served with thebest.
SHALLOW
Sir John, Sir John, don't make a bad choice. They're the best men of the whole group, and I want to make sure you have the best!
FALSTAFF
Will you tell me, Master Shallow, how to choose a man?Care I for the limb, the thews, the stature, bulk, and bigassemblance of a man? Give me the spirit, Master Shallow.Here’s Wart. You see what a ragged appearance itis. He shall charge you and discharge you with the motion of apewterer’s hammer, come off and on swifter than he thatgibbets on the brewer’s bucket. And this same half-facedfellow, Shadow, give me this man. He presents no mark tothe enemy. The foeman may with as great aim level at theedge of a penknife. And for a retreat, how swiftly will thisFeeble the woman’s tailor,run off! O, give me the sparemen, and spare me the great ones. —Put me a caliver into Wart’s hand, Bardolph.
FALSTAFF
Master Shallow, are you going to tell me how I should choose my soldiers? Do you think I only care about a man's body, power, strength, muscles, and overall appearance? Give me his spirit, Master Shallow! Look at Wart here. You can see what a tattered appearance he has. But he will load and fire with the steadiness that a pewterer has when using his hammer. He can advance and retreat as quickly as a man can refill a brewer's pail. And this little thin fellow, Shadow, let me have this man. He isn't even a proper target for the enemy. He's so thin the enemy might as well be aiming at the edge of a knife. And when it comes to retreating, this Feeble, the woman's tailor, will run away quicker than anyone else! Oh, give me the spare men and spare me the great ones!
[To BARDOLPH] Now give Wart a light musket, Bardolph.
BARDOLPH
Hold, Wart. Traverse. Thas, thas, thas.
BARDOLPH
Here it is, Wart. Now march back and forth. March, march, march.
FALSTAFF
Come, manage me your caliver: so, very well, go to, very good, exceeding good. O, give me always a little, lean, old, chopped, bald shot. Well said, i' faith, Wart. Th' art a good scab. Hold, there’s a tester for thee.
FALSTAFF
Come on, handle your weapon. Yes, very good, very good, you're doing very well. Oh, I would always choose a little, thin, old, dried up and bald soldier. Well done, Wart. You're a good little rascal. Hang on, here's sixpence for you.
SHALLOW
He is not his craft’s master. He doth not do it right. I remember at Mile End Green, when I lay at Clement’s Inn— I was then Sir Dagonet in Arthur’s show —there was alittle quiver fellow, and he would manage you his piecethus. And he would about and about, and come you in, and come you in. “Rah, tah, tah,” would he say. “Bounce,” would he say, and away again would he go, and again would he come. I shall ne'er see such a fellow.
SHALLOW
He is not exactly an expert. He's not doing it right. I remember at Mile End Green, when I was staying at Clement's Inn, I played the fool in an archery exhibition. I remember that there was this little nimble man who used to hold his weapon just like this. He would just run around all over the place, and he'd charge over and over again. He'd say, "Rah, tah, tah," and "Bang!" Then he would run away, before charging all over again. I've never seen anyone like him.
FALSTAFF
These fellows will do well, Master Shallow. —God keep you, Master Silence. I will not use many words with you. Fare you well, gentlemen both. I thank you. I must a dozen mile to-night. —Bardolph, give the soldiers coats.
FALSTAFF
These men will do well, Master Shallow.
[To SILENCE] God bless you, Master Silence. There's no need for me to say many words to you.
[To SHALLOW and SILENCE] Goodbye to both of you. Thank you for your help. I need to travel at least twelve miles tonight.
[To BARDOLPH] Give the soldiers their uniforms and their jackets, Bardolph.
SHALLOW
Sir John, the Lord bless you. God prosper your affairs.God send us peace. At your return, visit our house. Letour old acquaintance be renewed. Peradventure I will with you to the court.
SHALLOW
Sir John, may God bless you and may he bring you good fortunes. May God also bring us peace. When you get back, come and visit us here. We can rebuild our old friendship. Maybe I will even come and see you at the royal court.
FALSTAFF
Fore God, would you would, Master Shallow.
FALSTAFF
I swear before God that I hope you do, Master Shallow.
SHALLOW
Go to. I have spoke at a word. God keep you.
SHALLOW
Get going now. I meant what I said. May God keep you safe.
FALSTAFF
Fare you well, gentle gentlemen.
FALSTAFF
Goodbye, kind gentlemen.
Exeunt SHALLOW and SILENCE
On, Bardolph. Lead the men away.
Walk on, Bardolph. Lead the men away.
Exeunt BARDOLPH and the recruits
As I return, I will fetch off these justices. I do see the bottom of Justice Shallow. Lord, Lord, how subject we old men are to this vice of lying. This same starved justice hath done nothing but prate to me of the wildness of his youth and the feats he hath done about Turnbull Street, and every third word a lie, duer paid to the hearer than the Turk’s tribute. I do remember himat Clement’s Inn, like a man made after supper of a cheese paring. When he was naked, he was, for all the world, like a forked radish with a head fantastically carved upon it with a knife. He was so forlorn that his dimensions to any thick sight were invincible. He was the very genius of famine, yet lecherous as a monkey, and the whores called him “mandrake.” He came ever in the rearward of the fashion, and sung those tunes to the overscutched huswives that he heard the carmen whistle, and swore they were his fancies or his good-nights. And now is this Vice’s dagger become a squire, and talks as familiarly of John o' Gaunt as if he had been sworn brother to him, and I’ll be sworn he ne'er saw him but once in the tilt-yard, and then he burst his head for crowding among the Marshal’s men. I saw it and told John o' Gaunt he beat his own name, for you might have thrust him and all his apparel into an eel-skin; the case of a treble hautboy was a mansion for him, a court. And now has he land and beefs. Well, I’ll be acquainted with him, if I return, and ’t shall go hard but I’ll make him a philosopher’s two stones to me. If the young dace be a bait for the old pike, I see no reason in the law of nature but I may snap at him. Let time shape, and there an end.
When I return, I will fleece these justices of the peace. I can see Justice Shallow for who he really is. Lord, Lord, we old men are so good at lying. This old justice has done nothing but chatter on to me about his wild youth and the crazy things he did near Turnbull Street. Every third word he's said to me has been a lie. He can tell lies quicker than a Turk will rush off to pay the Sultan. I remember him when he was at Clement's Inn. He looked like a man that had been made out of a spare slice of cheese after dinner. When he was naked, he looked like a mandrake root, with a head that someone had taken the time to carve out with a knife. He was so thin that you had to have perfect vision to even notice him at all. He was the very embodiment of famine, but he was still as horny as a monkey, and the whores called him "mandrake." He was always behind on the fashions. He would hear the cart drivers whistling tunes and then would go and sing those tunes to a deadbeat whore, pretending that they were his songs, his ditties. And now this vile, thin man has become a gentleman, and talks about John of Gaunt like they were close companions. In fact, the only place he would have seen John of Gaunt was up in Westminster, when he was competing in a jousting tournament. Even then, John of Gaunt cut Shallow's head with his sword for standing where he wasn't supposed to. I saw it all and I told John of Gaunt that he had basically beaten his own name—since Shallow was so gaunt back then you could have fit all of him into the skin of an eel. Back then an oboe's case would have looked like a mansion to him—a courtroom even. And now he has land and his own animals. Well, if I come back, I will make him be my friend. It won't be easy, but I will make him a never-ending source of wealth for myself. If small fish are meant to be eaten by big fish, then I see no reason why I can't snap at his heels. Only time will decide, and with that, I'm done.
Exit
