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Bard. It is a life that I have desir'd: I will thrive.
[Exit BARDOLPH. Fal. I 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.
Enter Pistol, Nym, and Robin. Which of you know Ford of this town?
Pist. I ken the wight; he is of substance good.
Fal. My honest lads, I will tell you what I am about.
Pist. Two yards and more.
Fal. No 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 behaviour, to be english'd rightly, is, “ I am Sir John Falstaff's.”
Pist. He hath study'd her will; and translated her will; out of honesty into English.
Fal. Now, the report goes, she has all the rule of her husband's purse; she hath a legion of angels.
Nym. The humour rises; it is good : humour me the angels.
Fal. I have writ me here a letter to her: and here another to Page's wife; who even now gave me good eyes too, examin’d my parts with most judicious eyliads : sometimes the beam of her view gilded my foot, sometimes my portly belly,
Pist. Then did the sun on dunghill shine.
Fal. O, 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 ! 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.
Pist. Shall I Sir Pandarus of Troy become, And by my side wear steel? then, Lucifer take all.
Nym. I will run no base humour : here, take the humour letter; I will keep the 'haviour of reputation.
Fal. Hold, sirrah, bear you these letters tightly; Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores.
[Exit Robin. Rogues, hence, avaunt! vanish like hail-stones, go; Trudge, plod, away, o'the hoof; seek shelter, pack! Falstaff will learn the humour of this age, French thrift, you rogues: myself, and skirted page.
[Exit FalstAFF. Nym. I have operations in my head, which be hu. mours of revenge,
Pist. Wilt thou revenge?
Nym. With both the humours I:
How Falstaff, varlet vile,