SHALLOW. Honest Bardolph, welcome; if thou want'st anything and wilt not call, beshrew thy heart. Welcome, my little tiny thief and welcome indeed too. I'll drink to Master Bardolph, and to all the cabileros about London. DAVY. I hope to see London once ere I die. BARDOLPH. An I might see you there, Davy! SHALLOW. By the mass, you'll crack a quart together--ha! will you not, Master Bardolph? BARDOLPH. Yea, sir, in a pottle-pot. SHALLOW. By God's liggens, I thank thee. The knave will stick by thee, I can assure thee that. 'A will not out, 'a; 'tis true bred. BARDOLPH. And I'll stick by him, sir. SHALLOW. Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing; be merry. [One knocks at door] Look who's at door there, ho! Who knocks? Exit DAVY FALSTAFF. [To SILENCE, who has drunk a bumper] Why, now you have done me right. SILENCE. [Singing] Do me right, And dub me knight. Samingo. Is't not so? FALSTAFF. 'Tis so. SILENCE. Is't so? Why then, say an old man can do somewhat. Re-enter DAVY DAVY. An't please your worship, there's one Pistol come from the court with news. FALSTAFF. From the court? Let him come in. Enter PISTOL How now, Pistol? PISTOL. Sir John, God save you! FALSTAFF. What wind blew you hither, Pistol? PISTOL. Not the ill wind which blows no man to good. Sweet knight, thou art now one of the greatest men in this realm. SILENCE. By'r lady, I think 'a be, but goodman Puff of Barson. PISTOL. Puff! Puff in thy teeth, most recreant coward base! Sir John, I am thy Pistol and thy friend, And helter-skelter have I rode to thee; And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys, And golden times, and happy news of price. FALSTAFF. I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of this world. PISTOL. A foutra for the world and worldlings base! I speak of Africa and golden joys. FALSTAFF. O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news? Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof. SILENCE. [Singing] And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John. PISTOL. Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons? And shall good news be baffled? Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies' lap. SHALLOW. Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding. PISTOL. Why, then, lament therefore. SHALLOW. Give me pardon, sir. If, sir, you come with news from the court, I take it there's but two ways--either to utter them or conceal them. I am, sir, under the King, in some authority. PISTOL. Under which king, Bezonian? Speak, or die. SHALLOW. Under King Harry. PISTOL. Harry the Fourth--or Fifth? SHALLOW. Harry the Fourth. PISTOL. A foutra for thine office! Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is King; Harry the Fifth's the man. I speak the truth. When Pistol lies, do this; and fig me, like The bragging Spaniard. FALSTAFF.