Page. The humour of it,' quoth 'a! here's a fellow frights English out of his wits. Ford. I will seek out Falstaff. 125 Page. I never heard such a drawling, affecting rogue. Ford. If I do find it: - well. Page. I will not believe such a Cataian, though the priest o' the town commended him for a true man. Ford. 'Twas a good sensible fellow: well. 130 [Mrs. Page and Mrs. Ford come forward. Mrs. Page. Whither go you, George? Hark you. How now, sweet Frank! why art Mrs. Ford. thou melancholy? 135 Ford. I melancholy! I am not melancholy. Get you home, go. Mrs. Ford. Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy head. Now, will you go, Mistress Page? 139 Mrs. Page. Have with you. You'll come to dinner, George? - [Aside to Mrs. Ford] Look who comes yonder: she shall be our messenger to this paltry knight. Mrs. Ford. [Aside to Mrs. Page] Trust me, I thought on her: she'll fit it. Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY. 144 Mrs. Page. You are come to see my daughter Anne? Quick. Ay, forsooth; and, I pray, how does good Mistress Anne? 147 Mrs. Page. Go in with us and see: we have an hour's talk with you. [Exeunt Mrs. Page, Mrs. Ford, and Mrs. Quickly. Page. How now, Master Ford! 150 Ford. You heard what this knave told me, did you not? Page. Yes: and you heard what the other told me? Ford. Do you think there is truth in them? Page. Hang 'em, slaves! I do not think the knight would offer it: but these that accuse him in his intent towards our wives are a yoke of his discarded men; very rogues, now they be out of service. Ford. Were they his men? Page. Marry, were they. 157 Ford. I like it never the better for that. Does he lie at the Garter? 161 Page. Ay, marry, does he. If he should intend this voyage toward my wife, I would turn her loose to him; and what he gets more of her than sharp words, let it lie on my head. 165 Ford. I do not misdoubt my wife; but I would be loath to turn them together. A man may be too confident: I would have nothing lie on my head: I cannot be thus satisfied. 169 Page. Look where my ranting host of the Garter comes: there is either liquor in his pate, or money in his purse, when he looks so Host. How now, bully-rook! thou'rt a gentleman. Cavaleiro-justice, I say! Enter SHALLOW. Shal. I follow, mine host, I follow. 175 Good even and twenty, good Master Page! Master Page, will you go with us? we have sport in hand. Host. Tell him, cavaleiro-justice; tell him, bullyrook. Shal. Sir, there is a fray to be fought between Sir Hugh the Welsh priest and Caius the French doctor. 181 Ford. Good mine host o' the Garter, a word with [Drawing him aside. you. Host. Shal. [To Page] Will you go with us to behold it? My merry host hath had the measuring of their weapons; and, I think, hath appointed them contrary places; for, believe me, I hear the parson is no jester. Hark, I will tell you what our sport shall be. [They converse apart. Host. Hast thou no suit against my knight, my guest-cavaleire? What say'st thou, my bully-rook? 190 Ford. None, I protest: but I'll give you a pottle of burnt sack to give me recourse to him, and tell him my name is Brook; only for a jest. Host. My hand, bully; thou shalt have egress and regress; said I well?—and thy name shall be Brook. It is a merry knight. — Will you go, An-heires? 196 Page. I have heard the Frenchman hath good skill in his rapier. 199 Shal. Tut, sir, I could have told you more. In these times you stand on distance, your passes, stoccadoes, and I know not what: 'tis the heart, Master Page; 'tis here, 'tis here. I have seen the time, with my long sword I would have made you four tall fellows skip like rats. Host. Here, boys, here, here! shall we wag? 205 Page. Have with you. -I had rather hear them scold than fight. [Exeunt Host, Shal., and Page. Ford. Though Page be a secure fool, and stands so firmly on his wife's frailty, yet I cannot put off my opinion so easily: she was in his company at Page's house; and what they made there, I know not. Well, I will look further into't: and I have a disguise to sound Falstaff. If I find her honest, I lose not my labour; if she be otherwise, 'tis labour well bestowed. [Exit SCENE II. A room in the Garter Inn. Enter FALSTAFF and PISTOL. Fal. I will not lend thee a penny. Pist. Why, then the world's mine oyster, Which I with sword will open. Fal. Not a penny. I have been content, sir, you should lay my countenance to pawn: I have grated upon my good friends for three reprieves for you and your coach-fellow Nym; or else you had looked through the grate, like a geminy of baboons. I am damned in hell for swearing to gentlemen my friends you were good soldiers and tall fellows; and when Mistress Bridget lost the handle of her fan, I took't upon mine honour thou hadst it .not. Pist. Didst not thou share? hadst thou not fifteen pence? 12 Fal. Reason, you rogue, reason: think'st thou I'll endanger my soul gratis? At a word, hang no more about me, I am no gibbet for you. Go. A short knife and a throng! To your manor of Pickt-hatch! Go. You'll not bear a letter for me, you rogue! you stand upon your honour! Why, thou unconfinable baseness, it is as much as I can do to keep the terms of my honour precise: I, I, I myself sometimes, leaving the fear of God on the left hand, and hiding mine honour in my necessity, am fain to shuffle, to hedge, and to lurch; and yet you, rogue, will ensconce your rags, your cat-a-mountain looks, your red-lattice phrases, and your boldbeating oaths, under the shelter of your honour! You will not do it, you! 25 Pist. I do relent: what would thou more of man? |