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wrong him, to call him poor; they say the jealous wittolly knave hath maffes of money, for the which his wife feems to me wellfavour'd. I will use her as the key of the cuckold-rogue's coffer; and there's my harvest-home.

Ford. I would you knew Ford, fir, that you might avoid him, if you saw him.

Fal. Hang him, mechanical falt-butter rogue! I will ftare him out of his wits; I will awe him with my cudgel; it shall hang like a meteor o'er the cuckold's horns. Mafter Brook, thou fhalt know, I will predominate over the peasant, and thou shalt lye with his wife: come to me foon at night; Ford's a knave, and I will aggravate his ftile: thou, master Brook, fhalt know him for knave and cuckold; come to me foon at night.



Ford. What a damn'd Epicurean rascal is this! my heart is ready to crack with impatience. Who fays, this is improvident jealoufy? my wife hath fent to him, the hour is fix'd, the match is made; would any man have thought this? fee the hell of having a false woman! my bed fhall be abus'd, my coffers ranfack'd, my reputation gnawn at, and I shall not only receive this villainous wrong, but stand under the adoption of abominable terms, and by him that does me the wrong; terms! names! Amaimon founds well, Lucifer well, Barbafon well, yet they are devils additions, the names of fiends: but cuckold! wittol! cuckold! the devil himself hath not such a name. Page is an ass, a secure ass, he will trust his wife; he will not be jealous : I will rather truft a Fleming with my butter, parfon Hugh the Welchman with my cheese, an Irishman with my Aqua-vitæ bottle, or a thief to walk my ambling gelding, than my wife with herself: then she plots, then she ruminates, then the devises; and what they think in their hearts they may effect, they will break their hearts but they will effect. Heav'n be prais'd for my jealoufy! Eleven o'clock the hour; I will prevent this, detect my wife, be reveng'd on Falstaff, and laugh at Page: I will about it: better three hours too foon than a minute too late. Fie, fie, fie! cuckold! cuckold! cuckold! [Exit. SCENE

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Enter Caius and Rugby.

Caius. JACK Rugby!
Rug. Sir.

Caius. Vat is de clock, Jack?

Rug. 'Tis past the hour, fir, that fir Hugh promis'd to meet. Caius. By gar, he has fave his foul, dat he is no come; he has pray his pible well, dat he is no come: by gar, Jack Rugby, he is dead already, if he be come.

Rug. He is wife, fir; he knew your worship would kill him, if he came.

Caius. By gar, de herring is not fo dead as me vill make him.
Take your rapier, Jack, I vill tell you how I vill kill him.
Rug. Alas, fir, I cannot fence.
Caius. Villany, take your rapier.
Rug. Forbear; here's company.

Enter Hoft, Shallow, Slender, and Page.

Hoft. 'Blefs thee, bully-doctor.
Shal. 'Save you, mafter doctor Caius.
Page. Now, good mafter doctor.
Slen. Give you good-morrow, fir.

Caius. Vat be all you, one, two, tree, four, come for?
Hoft. To fee thee fight, to see thee foin, to see thee traverse,
to fee thee here, to fee thee there, to see thee pass thy puncto,
thy ftock, thy reverse, thy distance, thy montant. Is he dead,
my Ethiopian? Is he dead, my Francifco? ha, bully? what
ays my Efculapius? my Galen? my heart of elder? ha? is he
dead, bully-ftale? is he dead?

Caius. By gar, he is de coward jack-priest of de varld; he is not fhow his face.


Hoft. Thou art a Cardalion, king Urinal, Hector of Greece, my boy.

Caius. I pray you, bear witnefs dat me have stay from fix or feven, two, tree hours for him, and he is no come.

Shal. He is the wifer man, mafter doctor; he is a curer of fouls, and you a curer of bodies: if you fhould fight, you go against the hair of your profeffions: Is it not true, mafter Page? Page. Mafter Shallow, you have yourself been a great fighter, though now a man of peace.

Shal. Body-kins, master Page, though I now be old, and of peace, if I fee a fword out, my finger itches to make one: though we are justices, and doctors, and church-men, master Page, we have fome falt of our youth in us; we are the fons of women, mafter Page.

Page. "Tis true, mafter Shallow.

Shal. It will be found fo, mafter Page. Master doctor Caius, I am come to fetch you home; I am fworn of the peace; you have show'd yourself a wise physician, and fir Hugh hath shown himself a wife and patient church-man: you must go with me,

mafter doctor.

Hoft. Pardon, gueft-juftice; ah! monfieur mock-water!
Caius. Mock-vater? vat is dat?

Hoft. Mock-water, in our English tongue, is valour, bully.
Caius. By gar, den I have as much mock-vater as de English-
man, scurvy-jack-dog-priest; by gar, me vill cut his ears.
Hoft. He will clapper-claw thee tightly, bully.

Caius. Clapper-de-claw? vat is dat ?

Hoft. That is, he will make thee amends.

Caius. By gar, me do look he shall clapper-de-claw me; for, by gar, me vill have it.

Hoft. And I will provoke him to't, or let him wag.

Caius. Me tank you for dat.

Hoft. And moreover, bully; but firft, mafter guest, and master Page, and eke Cavaliero Slender, go you through the town to Frogmore.

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Page. Sir Hugh is there, is he?

Hoft. He is there; fee what humour he is in; and I will bring the doctor about the fields: will it do well?

Shal. We will do it.

All. Adieu, good master doctor. [Ex. Page, Shal. and Slen. Caius. By gar, me vill kill de priest; for he speak for a jackan-ape to Anne Page.

Hoft. Let him die; but sheath thy impatience; throw cold water on thy choler; go about the fields with me through Frogmore; I will bring thee where mistress Anne Page is, at a farm-house a feasting, and thou shalt woo her, cock o'th' game; faid I well?

Caius. By gar, me tank you vor dat: by gar, I love you; and I fhall procure 'a you de good gueft; de earl, de knight, de lords, de gentlemen, my patients.

Hoft. For the which I will be thy adverfary toward Anne Page:

faid I well?

Caius. By gar, 'tis good; vell faid.

Hoft. Let us wag then.

Caius. Come at my heels, Jack Rugby.



Frogmore near Windfor.

Enter Evans and Simple.




Pray you now, good mafter Slender's ferving-man, and friend
Simple by your name, which way have you
look'd for mafter
Caius, that calls himself doctor of phyfick?
Simp. Marry, fir, the pitty-wary, the park-ward, old Windsor
way, and every way but the town way.

Eva. I moft fehemently defire you, you will alfo look that way.
Simp. I will, fir.

Eva. 'Plefs my foul! how full of chollars I am, and trempling of mind! I fhall be glad if he have deceiv'd me; how melan


chollies I am! I will knog his urinals about his knave's coftard,
when I have good opportunities for the ork: 'pless my foul!
[Sings, being afraid.

By fhallow rivers, to whofe falls
Melodious birds fing madrigalls;
There will we make our peds of roses,
And a thousand vragant pofies.

By fhallow-'Mercy on me! I have a great difpofitions to cry.
Melodious birds fing madrigalls. when as I fat in Pabilion;
and a thousand vragrant pofies. By fhallow, &c.
Simp. Yonder he is coming, this way, fir Hugh.
Eva. He's welcome. By shallow rivers, to whofe falls -
Heav'n profper the right! what weapons is he?

Simp. No weapons, fir; there comes my mafter, master Shallow, and another gentleman, from Frogmore, over the stile, this way.

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Eva. Pray you give me my gown; or else keep it in

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in your arms.


Enter Page, Shallow, and Slender.

Shal. How now, master parfon? good-morrow, good fir Hugh. Keep a gamefter from the dice, and a good student from his book, and it is wonderful.

Slen. Ah fweet Anne Page!

Page. 'Save you, good fir Hugh.

Eva. 'Plefs you from his mercy-fake, all of you!

Shal. What? the fword and the word? do you study them both, mafter parfon ?

Page. And youthful ftill, in your doublet and hofe, this raw rheumatick day?

Eva. There is reasons and caufes for it.

Page. We are come to you, to do a good office, mafter parson.
Eva. Ferry well: what is it?

Page. Yonder is a moft reverend gentleman, who, belike, having receiv'd wrong by fome person, is at most odds with his own gravity and patience, that ever you saw.


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