Anne. May be, he tells you true. Albeit, I will confess, thy father's wealth Anne. Gentle master Fenton, Yet seek my father's love: still seek it, Sir: If opportunity and humble suit Cannot attain it, why then.-Hark you hither. [They converse apart. Enter SHALLOW, SLENDER, and Mrs. QUICKLY. Shal. Break their talk, mistress Quickly; my kinsman shall speak for himself. Slen. I'll make a shaft or a bolt on't:* slid, 'tis but venturing. Shal. Be not dismay'd. Slen. No, she shall not dismay me: I care not for that, but that I am afeard. Quick. Hark ye; master Slender would speak a word with you. Anne. I come to him.-This is my father's choice. O, what a world of vile ill-favour'd faults Looks handsome in three hundred pounds a year! [Aside. Quick. And how does good master Fenton ? Pray you, a word with you. Shal. She's coming; to her, coz. O boy, thou hadst a father! Slen. I had a father, mistress Anne ;-my uncle can tell you good jests of him :-Pray you, uncle, tell mistress Anne the jest, how my father stole two geese out of a pen, good uncle. leave you. Anne. Now, master Slender. Slen. My will? od's heartlings, that's a pretty Jest, indeed! I ne'er made my will yet, I thank heaven; I am not such a sickly creature, I give heaven praise. Anne. I mean, master Slender, what would you with me? Slen. Truly, for mine own part, I would little or nothing with you: Your father, and my uncle, have made motions: if it be my luck, so: if not, happy man be his dole ! They can tell you how things go, better than I can: You may ask your father; here he comes. Enter PAGE and Mistress PAGE. Page. Now, master Slender :-Love him, daughter Anne. Why, how now! what does master Fenton here? * A proverb-a shaft was a long arrow, and a bolt, a thick short one. + Come, poor or rich. t Lot You wrong me, Sir, thus still to haunt my house: I told you, Sir, my daughter is dispos'd of. Fent. Nay, master Page, be not impatient. Mrs. Page. Good master Fenton, come not to my child. Page. She is no match for you. Fent. Sir, will you hear me? Page. No, good master Fenton. Come, master Shallow: come, son Slender, in:[Fenton. Knowing my mind, you wrong me, master [Exeunt PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER. Quick. Speak to mistress Page. Fent. Good mistress Page, for that I love your daughter manners, Perforce, against all checks, rebukes, and yond' fool. Mrs. Page. I mean it not; I seek you a better husband. Quick. That's my master, master doctor. Anne. Alas, I had rather be set quick i' the earth, And bowl'd to death with turnips. Mrs. Page. Come, trouble not yourself: Good master Fenton, I will not be your friend, nor enemy: [in [Exeunt Mistress PAGE and ANNE. Fent. Farewell, gentle mistress; farewell, Nan. Quick. This is my doing, now;-Nay, said I, will you cast away your child on a fool, and a physician? Look on master Fenton :-this is my doing. Fent. I thank thee; and I pray thee, once Give my sweet Nan this ring: There's for thy to-night [Exit. pains. Quick. Now heaven send thee good fortune! A kind heart he hath: a woman would run through fire and water for such a kind heart. But yet, I would my master had mistress Anne; or I would master Slender had her; or, in sooth, I would master Fenton had her: I will do what I can for them all three; for so I have promised, and I'll be as good as my word; but speciously for master Fenton. Well, I must of another errand to Sir John Falstaff from my two mistresses; What a beast am I to slackt it? [Exit. SCENE V.-A Room in the Garter Inn. Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH. Fal. Bardolph, I say, Bard. Here, Sir. in't. [Exit BARD.] Have I lived to be carried Fal. Go fetch me a quart of sack; put a toast in a basket, like a barrow of butcher's offal; and to be thrown into the Thames? Well; if I be served such another trick, I'll have my brains ta'en out, and butter'd, and give them to a dog for a new year's gift. The rogues slighted me into the river with as little remorset as they would have drowned a bitch's blind puppies, fifteen i' the litter: and you may know Pity. * Specially. + Neglect. 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. Re-enter BARDOLPH, with the wine. Bard. Here's mistress Quickly, Sir, to speak with you. Fal. Come, let me pour in some sack to the Thames water; for my belly's as cold, as if I had swallowed snow-balls for pills to cool the reins. Call her in. Bard. Come in, woman. Enter Mrs. QUICKLY. Quick. By your leave; I cry you mercy: Give your worship good-morrow. Fal. Take away these chalices: Go brew me a pottle of sack finely. Bard. With eggs, Sir? Fal. Simple of itself; I'll no pullet-sperm in my brewage. [Exit BARD.]-How now? Quick. Marry, Sir, I come to your worship from mistress Ford. Fal. Mistress Ford! I have had ford enough: I was thrown into the ford: I have my belly full of ford. Quick. Alas the day! good heart, that was not her fault; she does so take on with her men; they mistook their erection. Fal. So did I mine, to build upon a foolish woman's promise. Quick. 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. Fal. 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. Quick. I will tell her. Fal. Do so. Between nine and ten, say'st thou? Quick. Eight and nine, Sir. Fal. Well, be gone: I will not miss her. Quick. Peace be with you, Sir! [Exit. Fal. I marvel, I hear not of master Brook; he sent me word to stay within: I like his money well. O, here he comes. Enter FORD. Ford. Bless you, Sir! Fal. Now, master Brook? you come to know what hath passed between me and Ford's wife? Ford. That, indeed, Sir John, is my business. Fal. Master Brook, I will not lie to you; I was at her house the hour she appointed me. Ford. And how speed you, Sir? Fal. Very ill-favouredly, master Brook. Ford. How so, Sir? Did she change her determination? Fal. No, master Brook; but the peaking cornuto, her husband, master Brook, dwelling in a continual 'larum of jealousy, comes me in the instant of our encounter, after we had embraced, kissed, protested, and, as it were, spoke the prologue of our comedy; and at his heels a rabble of his companions, thither provoked and instigated by his distemper, and, forsooth, to search his house for his wife's love. * Cups. Fal. By the Lord, a buck-basket: rammed me in with foul shirts and smocks, socks, foul stockings, and greasy napkins; that, master Brook, there was the rankest compound of villanous smell, that ever offended nostril. Ford. And how long lay you there? Fal. Nay, you shall hear, master Brook, what I have suffered to bring this woman to evil for your good. Being thus crammed in the basket, a couple of Ford's knaves, his hinds, were called forth by their mistress, to carry me in the name of foul clothes to Datchetlane: they took me on their shoulders; met the jealous knave their master in the door; who asked them once or twice what they had in their basket: I quaked for fear, lest the lunatic knave would have searched it; but Fate, ordaining he should be a cuckold, held his hand. Well; on went he for a search, and away went I for foul clothes. But mark the sequel, master Brook: I suffered the pangs of three severa deaths: first, an intolerable fright, to be detected with a jealous rotten bell-wether: next, to be compassed like a good bilbo, in the circumference of a peck, hilt to point, heel to head: and then, to be stopped in, like a strong distillation, with stinking clothes that fretted in their own grease: think of that, a man of my kidney,-think of that; that am as subject to heat as butter; a man of continual dissolution and thaw; it was a miracle to 'scape suffocation. And in the height of this bath, when I was more than half stewed in grease, like a Dutch dish, to be thrown into the Thames, and cooled, glowing hot, in that surge, like a horse-shoe; think of that;-hissing hot,-think of that, master Brook. Ford. In good sadness,† Sir, I am sorry that for my sake you have suffered all this. My suit then is desperate; you'll undertake her no more. Fal. Master Brook, I will be thrown into Etna, as I have been into Thames, ere I will leave her thus. Her husband is this morning gone a birding: I have received from her another embassy of meeting; 'twixt eight and nine is the hour, master Brook. Ford. 'Tis past eight already, Sir. Ful. Is it? I will then address; me to my appointment. Come to me at your convenient leisure, and you shall know how I speed; and the conclusion shall be crowned with your enjoying her: Adieu. You shall have her, master Brook; master Brook, you shall cuckold Ford, [Exit. Ford. Hum! ha! is this a vision? is this a dream? do I sleep? Master Ford, awake; awake, master Ford; there's a hole made in your best coat, master Ford. This 'tis to be married! this 'tis to have linen, and buckbaskets!-Well, I will proclaim myself what I am: I will now take the lecher; he is at my house: he cannot 'scape me; 'tis impossible he should: cannot creep into a halfpenny pure, or into a pepper-box: but, lest the * Bilboa, where the best blades are made. + Seriousness. 1 Make myself readr. How now, Sir Hugh? no school to-day? Quick. Blessing of his heart! Mrs. Page. Sir Hugh, my husband says, my son profits nothing in the world at his book; I pray you, ask him some questions in his accidence. Era. Come hither, William; hold up your head; come. Mrs. Page. Come on, sirrah; hold up your head; answer your master, be not afraid. Era. William, how many numbers is in Era. That is good William. What is he, William, that does lend articles? Will. Articles are borrowed of the pronoun; and be thus declined, Singulariter, nominativo, hic, hæc, hoc. Era. Nominativo, hig, hag, hog; pray you, mark: genitivo, hujus: Well, what is your ac cusative case? Will. Accusativo, hinc. Era. I pray you, have your remembrance, child; Accusativo, hing, hang, hog. Quick. Hang hog is Latin for bacon, I warrant you. Era. Leave your prabbles, 'oman. What is the focative case, William? Will. O-Vocativo, O. Will. Genitive case? Will. Genitive,-horum, harum, horum. Quick. 'Vengeance of Jenny's case! fie on her!-never name her, child, if she be a whore. Eva. For shame, 'oman. Quick. You do ill to teach the child such words: he teaches him to hick and to hack. which they'll do fast enough of themselves; and to call horum:-tie upon you! Eva. 'Oman, art thou lunatics? hast thou no of the genders? Thou art as foolish Christian understandings for thy cases, and the numbers creatures as I would desires. Mrs. Page. Pr'ythee hold thy peace. sions of your pronouns. Will. Forsooth, I have forgot. Eva. It is ki, ka, cod; if you forget your kies, your kas, and your cods, you must be preeches. Go your ways, and play, go. Mrs. Page. He is a better scholar, than I thought he was. Eva. He is a good spragt memory. Farewell, mistress Page. Mrs. Page. Adieu, good Sir Hugh. [Exit Sir HUGH.] Get you home, boy.-Come, we stay too long. [Exeunt. SCENE II-A Room in FORD's House. Enter FALSTAFF and Mrs. FORD. Fal. Mistress Ford, your sorrow hath eaten up my sufferance: I see, you are obsequious‡ in your love, and I profess requital to a hair's breadth; not only, mistress Ford, in the simple office of love, but in all the accoutrement, complement, and ceremony of it. But are you sure of your husband now? Mrs. Ford. He's a birding, sweet Sir John. Mrs. Page. [Within.] What hoa, gossip Ford! what hoa! Mrs. Ford. Step into the chamber, Sir John. [Exit FALSTAFF. Enter Mrs. PAGE. Mrs. Page. How now, sweetheart? who's at home beside yourself? Mrs. Ford. Why, none but mine own people. Mrs. Ford. No, certainly ;-speak louder. [Aside. Mrs. Page. Truly, I am so glad you have nobody here. Mrs. Ford. Why? Mrs. Page. Why, woman, your husband is with my husband; so rails against all married in his old lunes again: he so takes on yonder mankind; so curses all Eve's daughters, of self on the forehead crying, Peer out, peer out! what complexion soever; and so buffets himthat any madness, I ever yet beheld, seemed but tameness, civility, and patience, to this his distemper he is in now: I am glad the fat knight is not here. Mrs. Ford. Why, does he talk of him? Mrs. Page. Of none but him; and swears, he was carried out, the last time he searched for him, in a basket: protests to my husband, he is now here; and hath drawn him and the rest of their company from their sport, to make Eva. Remember, William; focative is, caret. another experiment of his suspicion: but I am Quick. And that's a good root. Era. 'Oman, forbear, Mrs. Page. Peace. Eva. What is your genitive case plural, Wil liam? * Outrageous. glad the knight is not here; now he shall see his own foolery. Mrs. Ford. How near is he, mistress Page? Mrs. Page. Hard by ; at street end; he will be here anon. Mrs. Ford. I am undone!-the knight is here. Mrs. Page. Why, then you are utterly shamed, and he's but a dead man. What a woman are you?-Away with him, away with him; better shame than murder. Mrs. Ford. Which way should he go? how should I bestow him? Shall I put him into the basket again? Re-enter FALSTAFF. Fal. No, I'll come no more i' the basket: May I not go out, ere he come? Mrs. Page. Alas, three of master Ford's brothers watch the door with pistols, that none shall issue out; otherwise you might slip away ere he came. But what make you here? Fal. What shall I do?-I'll creep up into the chimney. We do not act, that often jest and laugh; "Tis old but true, Still swine eat all the draff. [Exit, Re-enter Mrs. FORD, with two Servants. Mrs. Ford. Go, Sirs, take the basket again on your shoulders; your master is hard at quickly, despatch. door; if he bid you set it down, obey him: [Exit. 1. Serv. Come, come, take it up. 2. Serv. Pray heaven, it be not full of the knight again. much lead. 1. Serv. I hope not; I had as lief bear so Enter FORD, PAGE, SHALLOW, CAIUS, and Sir HUGH EVANS. Ford. Ay, but if it prove true, master Page, Set down the basket, villain :-Somebody call have you any way then to unfool me again?Mrs. Ford. There they always use to dis-out here!-O, you panderly rascals! there's a my wife:- -You, youth in a basket, come charge their birding-pieces: Creep into the knot, a ging, a pack, a conspiracy against kiln-hole. me: Now shall the devil be shamed. What! honest clothes you send forth to bleaching. wife, I say! come, come forth; behold what Fal. Where is it? Mrs. Ford. He will seek there on my word. Neither press, coffer, chest, trunk, well, vault, but he hath an abstract* for the remembrance of such places, and goes to them by his note: There is no hiding you in the house. Fal. I'll go out then. Mrs. Page. If you go out in your own semblance, you die, Sir John. Unless you go out disguised, are not to go loose any longer; you must be Page. Why, this passes !+ Master Ford, you pinioned. Era. Why, this is lunatics! this is mad as a mad dog! Shal. Indeed, master Ford, this is not well; indeed. Enter Mrs. FORD. Mrs. Ford. How might we disguise him? Mrs. Page. Alas the day, I know not. There Ford. So say I too, Sir.-Come hither, misis no woman's gown big enough for him; other-tress Ford; mistress Ford, the honest woman, wise, he might put on a hat, a muffler, and a kerchief, and so escape. Fal. Good hearts, devise something: any extremity, rather than a mischief. Mrs. Ford. My maid's aunt, the fat woman of Brentford, has a gown above. Mrs. Puge. On my word, it will serve him; she's as big as he is: and there's her thrum'd hat, and her muffler too: Run up, Sir John. Mrs. Ford. Go, go, sweet Sir John: mistress Page and I, will look some linen for your head. Mrs. Page. Quick, quick; we'll come dress you straight: put on the gown the while. [Exit FALSTAFF. Mrs. Ford. I would my husband would meet him in this shape: he cannot abide the old woman of Brentford; he swears, she's a witch; forbade her my house, and hath threatened to beat her. Mrs. Page. Heaven guide him to thy husband's cudgel; and the devil guide his cudgel afterwards! Mrs. Ford. But is my husband coming? Mrs. Page. Ay, in good sadness,t is he; and talks of the basket too, howsoever he hath had intelligence. Mrs. Ford. We'll try that; for I'll appoint my men to carry the basket again, to meet him at the door with it, as they did last time. Mrs. Page. Nay, but he'll be here presently: let's go dress him like the witch of Brentford. Mrs. Ford. I'll first direct my men, what they shall do with the basket. Go up, I'll bring Linen for him straight. [Exit. Mrs. Page. Hang him, dishonest varlet! we cannot misuse him enough. We'll leave a proof, by that which we will do, Wives may be merry, and yet honest too: the modest wife, the virtuous creature, that hath the jealous fool to her husband!-I suspect without cause, mistress, do I? Mrs. Ford. Heaven be my witness, you do, if you suspect me in any dishonesty. Ford. Well said, brazen-face; hold it out.Come forth, sirrah. [Pulls the clothes out of the basket. Page. This passes! Mrs. Ford. Are you not ashamed? let the clothes alone. Ford. I shall find you anon. Eva. 'Tis unreasonable! Will you take up your wife's clothes? Come away. Ford. Empty the basket, I say. Ford. Master Page, as I am a man, there was one conveyed out of my house yesterday in this basket: Why may not he be there again? In my house I am sure he is: my intelligence is true; my jealousy is reasonable: Pluck me out all the linen. Mrs. Ford. If you find a man there, he shall die a flea's death. Page. Here's no man. Shal. By my fidelity, this is not well, master Ford; this wrongs you. Eva. Master Ford, you must pay, and not follow the imaginations of your own heart this is jealousies. Ford. Well, he's not here I seek for. Page. No, nor no where else, but in your brain. Ford. Help to search my house this one time: if I find not what I seek, show no colour for my extremity, let me for ever be your tablesport; let them say of me, As jealous as Ford, that searched a hollow walnut for his wife's leman. Satisfy me once more; one more search with me. Mrs. Ford. What hoa, mistress Page! come you, and the old woman down; my husband will come into the chamber. Ford. Old woman! What old woman's that? Mrs. Ford. Why, it is my maid's aunt of Brentford. Ford. A witch, a quean, an old cozening quean! Have I not forbid her my house? She comes of errands, does she? We are simple men; we do not know what's brought to pass under the profession of fortune-telling. She works by charms, by spells, by the figure, and such daubery as this is; beyond our element: we know nothing.- -Conie down, you witch, you hag you: come down I say. SCENE III.-A Room in the Garter Inn. Enter HOST and BARDOLPH. Bard. Sir, the Germans desire to have three of your horses: the duke himself will be tomorrow at court, and they are going to mee him. Host. What duke should that be, comes so secretly? I hear not of him in the court: Let me speak with the gentlemen; they speak English? Bard. Ay, Sir; I'll call them to you. Host. They shall have my horses; but I'll make them pay, I'll sauce them: they have had my houses a week at command; I have turned away my other guests: they must come off; I'll sauce them: Čome. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-A Room in FORD's House. Mrs. Ford. Nay, good, sweet husband;good gentlemen, let him not strike the old Enter PAGE, FORD, Mrs. PAGE, Mrs. FORD, and Sir HUGH EVANS. woman. Enter FALSTAFF in women's clothes, led by Mrs. PAGE. Mrs. Page. Come, mother Pratt, come, give me your hand. Ford. I'll prat her:- -Out of my door, you witch! [Beats him.] You rag, you baggage, you polecat, you ronyon!+ out! out! I'll conjure you, I'll fortune-tell you. [Exit FALSTAFF. Mrs. Page. Are you not ashamed? I think. you have kill'd the poor woman. Eva. 'Tis one of the pest discretions of a 'oman as ever I did look upon. Page. And did he send you both these letters at an instant? Mrs. Page. Within a quarter of an hour. I rather will suspect the sun with cold, Mrs. Ford. Nay, he will do it :-Tis a good-In him that was of late an heretic, ly credit for you. Ford. Hang her, witch! Era. By yea and no, I think, the 'oman is a witch indeed: I like not when a 'oman has a great peard; I spy a great peard under her muffler. Ford. Will you follow, gentlemen? I beseech you follow; see but the issue of my jealousy: if I cry out thus upon no trail, never trust me when I opens again. Page. Let's obey his humour a little further: Come, gentlemen. [Exeunt PAGE, FORD, SHALLOW, and EVANS. Mrs. Page. Trust me, he beat him most pitifully. Mrs. Ford. Nay, by the mass, that he did not; he beat him most unpitifully, methought. Mrs. Page. I'll have the cudgel hallowed, and hang o'er the altar; it hath done meritorious service. Mrs. Ford. What think you? May we, with the warrant of woman-hood, and the witness of a good conscience, pursue him with any further revenge? Mrs. Puge. The spirit of wantonness is, sure, scared out of him; if the devil have him not in fee-simple, with fine and recovery, he will never, I think, in the way of waste, attempt us again. Mrs. Ford. Shall we tell our husbands how we have served him? Mrs. Page. Yes, by all means; if it be but to scrape the figures out of your husband's brains. If they can find in their hearts, the poor unvirtuous fat knight shall be any further afflicted, we two will still be the ministers. Mrs. Ford. I'll warrant, they'll have him publicly shamed: and, methinks, there would be no period to the jest, should he not be publicly shamed. Mrs. Page. Come, to the forge with it then, shape it: I would not have things cool. [Exeunt. Cry out. * Lover. + Scab. * Scent. As firm as faith. Page. "Tis well, 'tis well; no more. But let our plot go forward: let our wives for it. Page. How! to send him word they'll meet him in the park at midnight! fie, fie; he'll never come." Eva. You say, he has been thrown in the rivers; and has been grievously peaten, as an old 'oman: methinks, there should be terrors in him, that he should not come; methinks, his flesh is punished, he shall have no desires. Page. So think I too. Mrs. Ford. Devise but how you'll use him when he comes, And let us two devise to bring him thither. Mrs. Page. There is an old tale goes, that Herne the hunter, Sometime a keeper here in Windsor forest, Doth all the winter time, at still midnight, Walk round about an oak, with great ragg'd horns; [cattle; And there he blasts the tree, and takes the And makes milch-kine yield blood, and shakes a chain In a most hideous and dreadful manner: The superstitious idle-headed eldt Page. Why, yet there want not many, that do fear In deep of night to walk by this Herne's oak: But what of this? Mrs. Ford. Marry, this is our device; |