FALSTAFF.
Go fetch me a quart of sack; put a toast in ’t.
[Exit Bardolph.]
Have I lived to be carried in a basket like a barrow of butcher’s offal, and to be thrown in the Thames? Well, if I be served such another trick, I’ll have my brains ta’en out and buttered, and give them to a dog for a New Year’s gift. ’Sblood, the rogues slighted me into the river with as little remorse as they would have drowned a blind bitch’s puppies, fifteen i’ the litter; and you may know by my size that I have a kind of alacrity in sinking; if the bottom were as deep as hell, I should down. I had been drowned, but that the shore was shelvy and shallow—a death that I abhor, for the water swells a man, and what a thing should I have been when I had been swelled! I should have been a mountain of mummy.
Enter Bardolph with sack.
BARDOLPH
Here’s Mistress Quickly, sir, to speak with you.
FALSTAFF.
Come, let me pour in some sack to the Thames water, for my belly’s as cold as if I had swallowed snowballs for pills to cool the reins. Call her in.
BARDOLPH.
Come in, woman.
Enter Mistress Quickly.
MISTRESS QUICKLY.
By your leave, I cry you mercy. Give your worship good morrow.
FALSTAFF.
Take away these chalices. Go, brew me a pottle of sack finely.