SHALLOW. By cock and pie, sir, you shall not away tonight. What, Davy, I say! FALSTAFF. You must excuse me, Master Robert Shallow. SHALLOW. I will not excuse you, you shall not be excused. Excuses shall not be admitted, there is no excuse shall serve, you shall not be excused. Why, Davy! Enter Davy. DAVY. Here, sir. SHALLOW. Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, let me see, Davy, let me see, Davy, let me see. Yea, marry, William cook, bid him come hither. Sir John, you shall not be excused. DAVY. Marry, sir, thus: those precepts cannot be served; and again, sir—shall we sow the hade land with wheat? SHALLOW. With red wheat, Davy. But for William cook, are there no young pigeons? DAVY. Yes, sir. Here is now the smith’s note for shoeing and plough-irons. SHALLOW. Let it be cast and paid. Sir John, you shall not be excused. DAVY. Now, sir, a new link to the bucket must needs be had. And, sir, do you mean to stop any of William’s wages, about the sack he lost the other day at Hinckley fair? SHALLOW. He shall answer it. Some pigeons, Davy, a couple of short-legged hens, a joint of mutton, and any pretty little tiny kickshaws, tell William cook. DAVY. Doth the man of war stay all night, sir? SHALLOW. Yea, Davy, I will use him well: a friend i’ th’ court is better than a penny in purse. Use his men well, Davy, for they are arrant knaves, and will backbite. DAVY. No worse than they are backbitten, sir, for they have marvellous foul linen. SHALLOW. Well conceited, Davy. About thy business, Davy. DAVY. I beseech you, sir, to countenance William Visor of Woncot against Clement Perkes o’ th’ hill. SHALLOW. There is many complaints, Davy, against that Visor. That Visor is an arrant knave, on my knowledge. DAVY. I grant your worship that he is a knave, sir, but yet, God forbid, sir, but a knave should have some countenance at his friend’s request. An honest man, sir, is able to speak for himself, when a knave is not. I have served your worship truly, sir, this eight years; and if I cannot once or twice in a quarter bear out a knave against an honest man, I have but a very little credit with your worship. The knave is mine honest friend, sir; therefore I beseech your worship let him be countenanced. SHALLOW. Go to; I say he shall have no wrong. Look about, Davy. [_Exit Davy._] Where are you, Sir John? Come, come, come, off with your boots. Give me your hand, Master Bardolph. BARDOLPH. I am glad to see your worship. SHALLOW. I thank thee with all my heart, kind Master Bardolph; and welcome, my tall fellow [_to the Page_]. Come, Sir John. FALSTAFF. I’ll follow you, good Master Robert Shallow. [_Exit Shallow._] Bardolph, look to our horses. [_Exeunt Bardolph and Page._]