Falstaff. 
Go fetch me a quart of sack; put a toast in ’t.

[Exit Bardolph.]

Have I lived to be carried in a basket, and to be thrown in the Thames like a barrow of butcher’s offal?  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.  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 had been swelled!  I should have been a mountain of mummy.

[Re-enter Bardolph, with the 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.]

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.

Bardolph. 
With eggs, sir?

Falstaff. 
Simple of itself; I’ll no pullet-sperm in my brewage.

[Exit Bardolph.]

How now!

Quickly. 
Marry, sir, I come to your worship from Mistress Ford.

Falstaff. 
Mistress Ford!  I have had ford enough; I was thrown into the ford;
I have my belly full of ford.

Quickly. 
Alas the day! good heart, that was not her fault:  she does so take
on with her men; they mistook their erection.

Falstaff. 
So did I mine, to build upon a foolish woman’s promise.

Quickly.  Well, she laments, sir, for it, that it would yearn your heart to see it.  Her husband goes this morning a-birding; she desires you once more to come to her between eight and nine; I must carry her word quickly.  She’ll make you amends, I warrant you.

Falstaff. 
Well, I will visit her.  Tell her so; and bid her think what a man
is; let her consider his frailty, and then judge of my merit.

Quickly. 
I will tell her.

Falstaff. 
Do so.  Between nine and ten, sayest thou?

Quickly. 
Eight and nine, sir.

Falstaff. 
Well, be gone; I will not miss her.

Quickly. 
Peace be with you, sir.

[Exit.]

Falstaff. 
I marvel I hear not of Master Brook; he sent me word to stay within. 
I like his money well.  O! here he comes.