SCENE IIL The Street in Windsor. Enter Mrs. Page, Mrs. Ford, and Dr. Caius. Mrs. Page. Master doctor, my daughter is in green; when you see your time, take her by the hand, away with her to the deanery, and des patch it quickly: Go before into the park; we

two must go together.

Host. Which means she to deceive? father or mother?

Fent. Both, my good host, to go along with me And here it rests, that you'll procure the vicar To stay for me at church, 'twixt twelve and one, And, in the lawful name of marrying,

To give our hearts united ceremony.

Host. Well, husband your device; Pll to the

vicar:

SCENE I. A Room in the Garter Inn.
Enter Falstaff and Mrs. Quickly.

Fal. Pr'ythee, no more prattling; -go. I'll hold: This is the third time; I hope good luck lies in odd numbers. Away, go; they say there is divinity in odd numbers, either in nativity, chance, or death. Away.

Quick. I'll provide you a chain; and I'll do what I can to get you a pair of horns. Fal. Away, I say; time wears: hold up your [Erit Mrs. Quickly.

nead and mince.

Enter Ford.

Be

How now, master Brook? Master Brook, the
matter will be known to-night, or never.
you in the Park about midnight, at Herne's oak,
and you shall see wonders.

Ford. Went you not to her yesterday, sir, as you told me you had appointed ?

Caius. I know vat I have to do; Adieu.
Mrs. Page. Fare you well, sir. (Erit Caius.)
My husband will not rejoice so much at the abuse
of Falstaff, as he will chafe at the doctor's mar
rying my daughter: but 'tis no matter; better
a little chiding, than a great deal of heart-break.
Mrs. Ford. Where is Nan now, and her troop
of fairies 7 and the Welsh devil, Hugh 1
Mrs. Page. They are all couched in a pit hard
by Herne's oak with obscured lights; which at
the very instant of Falstaff's and our meeting,
they will at once display to the night.
Mrs. Ford. That cannot choose but amaze him.
Mrs. Page. If he be not amazed, he will be
mocked; if he be amazed, he will every way
be mocked.

Mrs. Ford. We'll betray him finely.
Mrs. Page. Against such lewdsters, and their

lechery,

Those that betray them do no treachery.
Mrs. Ford. The hour draws on; To the oak
to the oak 1
[Exeunt'

SCENE IV. Windsor Park.
Enter Sir Hugh Evans and Fairies.
Eva. Trib, trib, fairies; come; and remember
your parts; be pold, I pray you; follow me into
the pit; and when I give the watch-'or da, do as
I pid you; Come, come; trib, trib.
Exeunt.

beast

SCENE V. Another part of the Park. Enter Falstaff disguised, with a buck's head on. Fal. The Windsor bell hath struck twelve; the minute draws on. Now, the hot-blooded god assist me;-Remember, Jove, thon wast a bull for thy Europa; love set on thy horns-O pow. erful love! that in some respects, inakes a a man; in some other, a man a beast. You were also, Jupiter, a swan, for the love of Leda;-0, omnipotent love! how near the god drew to the goose?-A fault done first in the form of a beast;-O Jove, a beastly fault! and then another fault in the semblance of a fowl; think on't, Jove: a foul fanlt-When gods have hot backs, what shall poor men do ? For me, I

Fal. I went to her, master Brook, as you see,
like a poor old man: but I came from her, mas
ter Brook, like a poor old woman. That same
knave, Ford, her husband, hath the finest mad
devil of jealousy in him, master Brook, that complexion of
ever governed frenzy. I will tell you. He beat
me grievously in the shape of a woman; for in
the shape of man, master Brook, I fear not Go-
liath with a weaver's beam; because I know

a

who can blame me to piss my tallow? Whe comes here? my doe ?

also, life is a shuttle. I am in haste; go along am here a Windsor stag; and the fattest, I think, with me; I'll tell you all, master Brook. Since i' the forest: send me a cool rut-time, Jove, or I plucked geese, played truant, and whipped top, I knew not what it was to be beaten, till lately. Follow me: I'll tell you strange things of this knave Ford on whom to-night I will be revenged, and I will deliver his wife into your hand.-Follow: Strange things in hand, master Brook! follow. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. Windsor Park.

Enter Page, Shallow, and Slender. Page. Come, come; we'll couch i' the castleditch, till we see the light of our fairies. Remember, son Slender, my daughter.

Enter Mrs. Ford and Mrs. Page.

Mrs. Ford. Sir John? art thou there, my deer, my male deer ?

Fal. My doe with the black scut?-Let the sky rain potatoes; let it thunder to the tune o. Green Sleeves; hail kissing-comfits, and snow eringoes; let there come a tempest of provocation, I will shelter me here. [Embracing her. Mrs. Ford. Mistress Page is come with me. sweetheart.

Slen. Ay, forsooth; I have spoke with her, and we have a nay word how to know one ano- haunch I will keep my sides to myself, my

ther. I come to her in white, and cry, mum;

Fal. Divide me like a bride-buck, each a shoulders for the fellow of this walk, and my

she cries, budget; and by that we know one ano- horns I bequeath your husbands. Am I a woodther.

Shal. That's good too: But what needs either your mum, or her budget; the white hite will decipher her well enough. It hath struck ten o'clock.

Page. The night is dark; light and spirits will become it well. Heaven prosper our sport! No man means evil but the devil, and we shall Know him by his horns. Let's away; follow [Exeunt.

Fal. I think, the devil will not have me damned, lest the the oil oil that is in me should set hell on fire; he would never else cross me thus.

Enter Sir Hugh Evans, like a satyr; Mrs. Quick-
ly, and Pistol; Anne Page, as the Fairy
Queen, attended by her brother and others,
dressed like fairies, with waxen tapers on
their heads.

Quick. Fairies, black, gray, green, and white,
You moon-shine revellers, and shades of night,
You orphan-heirs of fixed destiny,
Attend your office, and your quality.
Crier Hobgoblin, make the fairy o-yes.
Pist. Elves, list your names; silence, you airy

toys.

Cricket, to Windsor chimneys shalt thou leap:
Where fires thou find'st unrak'd, and hearths

unswept,

There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry:
Our radiant queen hates sluts, and sluttery.
Fal. They are fairies; he that speaks to them
shall die

I'll wink and couch: No man their works must
eye.
[Lies down upon his face.
Eva. Where's Pede?-Go you, and where you
find a maid,
That, ere she sleep, has thrice her prayers said,
Raise up the organs of her fantasy,
Sleep she as sound as careless infancy;

But those as sleep, and think not on their sins,
Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides
and shins.

Quick. About, about;

1

During this song, the fairies pinch Falstaff.
Doctor Caius comes one way, and steals away
a fairy in green; Slender another way, and
takes off a fairy in white; and Fenton comes,
and steals away Mrs. Anne Page. A noise of
hunting is made within. All the fairies run
away. Falstaff pulls off his buck's head, and
rises.

Enter Page, Ford, Mrs. Page, and Mrs. Ford.
They lay hold on him.

Page. Nay, do not fly: I think, we have
watch'd you now;

Will none but Herne the hunter serve your turn?
Mrs. Page. I pray you, come; hold up the

jest no higher :

wives?

Now, good Sir John, how like you Windsor
See you these, husband? do not these fair yokes
Become the forest better than the town?

Ford. Now, sir, who's a cuckold now ?-Maa-
ter Brook, Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldy knave;
here are his horns, master Brook And, master
Brook, he hath enjoyed nothing of Ford's but
his buck basket, his cudgel, and twenty pounds
of money, which must be paid to master Brook;

Search Windsor Castle, elves, within and out his horses are arrested for it, master Brook.

Strew good luck, ouphes, on every sacred room:
That it may stand till the perpetual doom,
In state as wholesome, as in state 'tis fit;
Worthy the own and the owner it.

The several chairs of order look you scour
With juice of balm, and every precious flower:
Each fair instalment, coat, and several crest,
With loyal blazon, evermore be blest !
And nightly, meadow-fairies, look, you sing,
Like to the Garter's compass, in a ring:
The expressure that it bears, green iet it be,
More fertile-fresh than all the field to see;
And, Hony soit qui mal y pense, write,
In emerald tufts, flowers purple, blue and white;
Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery,
Buckled below fair knighthood's hending knee;
Fairies use flowers for their charactery.
Away; disperse: But, 'till 'tis one o'clock,
Our dance of custom, round about the oak
Of Herne the hunter, let us not forget.

Eva. Pray you, lock hand in hand; yourselves

in order set:

Quick. Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire!
About him fairies; sing a scornful rhyme:
And as you trip, still pinch him to your time.
Eva. It is right; indeed he is full of lecheries
and iniquity.

SONG.

Fye on sinful fantasy!
Fye on lust and luxury!
Lust is but a bloody fire,
Kindled with unchaste desire,

Mrs. Ford. Sir John, we have had ill luck, we could never meet. I will never take you for my love again, but I will always count you my deer.

Fal. I do begin to perceive that I am made an ass.

Ford. Ay, and an ox too; both the proofs are

extant.

Fal. And these are not fairies ? I was three or four times in the thought, they were not fairies; and yet the guiltiness of my mind, the sudden surprise of my powers, drove the grossness of the foppery into a received belief, in despite of the teeth of all rhyme and reason, that they were fairies. See now, how wit may be made a Jack-a-lent, when 'tis upon ill employ

ment!

Eva. Sir John Falstaff, serve Got, and leave your desires, and fairies will not pinse you. Ford. Well said, fairy Hugh.

Eva. And leave you your jealousies too, 1 pray you.

Ford. I will never mistrust my wife again. till thou art able to woo her in good English. Fal. Have I laid my brain in the sun, and dried it, that it wants matter r to prevent so gross o'er-reaching as this? Am I ridden with a Welsh goat too? Shall I have a coxcomb of frize? 'tis time I were choked with a piece of toasted cheese.

Eva. Seese is not good to give putter; your pelly is all putter.

Fal. Seese and putter 7 Have I lived to stand at the taunt of one that makes fritters of Eng. lish? This is enough to be the decay of lust and late walking through the realm.

Mrs. Page. Why, Sir John, do you think, though we would have thrust virtue out of our hearts by the head and shoulders, and have given ourselves without scruple to hell, that ever the devil could have made you our delight? Ford. What, a hodge-pudding 7 a bag of flax? Mrs. Page. A puffed man?

Page. Old, cold, withered, and of intolerable
entrails?

Ford. And one that is as slanderous as Satan1
Page. And as poor as Job?

Ford. And as wicked as his wife ?

Eva. And given to fornications, and to ta- green; and, indeed, she is now with the doctor verns, and sack, and wine, and metheglins, and at the deanery, and there married.

Eva. Jeshu! Master Slender, cannot you see but marry poys 7 Let it be so: Sir John, Page. O, I am am vexed at heart: What shall I do? To master Brook you yet shall hold your word; Mrs. Page. Good George, be angry: 1 For he to-night shall lie with mistress Ford. knew of your purpose: turned my daughter into

A Sen Captain, Friend to Viola.
VALENTINE, Gentlemen attending on the MARIA, Olivia's Woman.

Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and other Attendants.

Scene-A City in Illyria; and the Sea Coast near it.

SCENEL. An Apartment in the Duke's Palace.
Ent. Duke, Curio, Lords; Musicians attending.
Duke. If musick be the food of love, play on,
Give me excess of it; that surfeiting,

But from her handmaid do return this answer:
The element itself, till seven years heat,
Shall not behold her face at ample view;
But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk,
And water once a day her chamber round
With eye-offending brine all this, to season
A brother's dead love, which she would keep
fresh,

And lasting, in her sad remembrance.

ing her

ear love

In the protection of his son, her brother,
Who shortly also died: for whose
They say she hath abjur'd the company
And sight of men.
Vio.

O, that I serv'd that lady:

And might not be delivered to the world,
Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,
What my estate is.
Cap.

That were hard to compass;
Because she will admit no kind of suit,
No, not the duke's.

Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain;
And though that nature with a beauteous wall
Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee

Duke. O, she, that hath a heart of that fine The form of my intent. I'll serve this duke; frame,

I will believe, thou hast a mind that suits
With this thy fair and outward character.
I pray thee, and I'll pay thee bounteously,
Conceal me what I am; and be my aid
For such disguise as, haply, shall become

That live in her! when liver, brain, and heart,
These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and

Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him,
It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing
And speak to him in many sorts of musick,
That will allow me very worth his service.
What else may hap, to time I will commit;
Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.
Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be:
When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see!
Vio. I thank thee: Lead me on. [Exeunt.

To pay this debt of love but to a brother,
How will she love, when the rich golden shaft
Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else

fill'd

SCENE II. The Sea Coast.
Enter Viola, Captain, and Sailors.

Vio. What country, friends, is this?
Cap.
Vio. And what should I do in Illyria ?
My brother he is in Elysium.
Perchance she is not drown'd:-What think

you, sailors ?

SCENE III. A Room in Olivia's House.
Enter Sir Toby Belch and Maria.

Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take the death of her brother thus? I am sure, care's an enemy to life.

Illyria, lady. Mar. By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o'nights; your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours.

Cap. It is perchance that you yourself were saved.

Vio. O my poor brother! and so, perchance,

may he be.

Cap. True, madam and to comfort you

with chance,

Assure yourself, after our ship did split,
When you, and that poor number saved with
you,

Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,
Most provident in peril, bind himself

(Courage and hope both teaching him the prac-
tice)

To a strong mast, that lived upon the sea.
Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,
I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves,

So long as I could see.
Vio.

For saying so, there's gold:

Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
The like of of him. Know' Know'st thou this country?
Cap. Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and
born

Not three hours' travel from this very place.
Vio. Who governs here ?

Cap.

A noble duke, in nature,

As in his name.
Vio. What is his name?
Cap.

Sir To. Why, let her except before excepted. Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits of order.

Sir To. Confine? I'll confine myself no finer
than I am: these clothes are good enough to
drink in, and so be these boots too; an they be
not, let them hang themselves in their own straps.
Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo
you I heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and
of a foolish knight, that you brought in one
night here, to be her wooer.
Sir To. Who, W Sir Andrew Ague-cheek ?
Mar. Ay, he.

Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.
Mar. What's that to the purpose ?

Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a year.

Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats; he's a very fool and a prodigal.

Sir To. Fie, that you'll say so! he plays o'the viol-de-gambo, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and and hath all the good gifts of nature.

Mar. He hath, indeed, -almost natural: for, besides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; and, but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the prudent, he would quickly have the gift of a grave.

Sir To. By this hand they are scoundrels, and Orsino. substractors, that say so of him. Who are they 7 Vio. Orsino! I have heard my father name Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company.

Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid.

they like to take dust, like Mistress Mall's pic

Sir And. Good mistress Accost, I desire better ture? why dost thou not go to church in a gal

acquaintance.

liard, and come home in a coranto coranto? My very

Mar. My name is Mary, sir.

Sir And. Good mistress Mary Accost,

Sir To. You mistake, knight: accost, is, front

her, board her, woo her, assail her.

walk should be a jig; I would not so much as make water, but in a sink-a-pace. What dost thou mean? is it a world to hide virtues in ? I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was formed under the star of a galliard. Sir And. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a flame-coloured stock. Shall we set about some revels?

Siv And. By mytroth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost? Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen.

Sir To. An thou let part so, SirAndrew, 'would thos might'st never draw sword again.

Sir And. An you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand? Mar Sir, I have not you by the hand.

Sir And. Marry, but you shall have; and

here's my hand.

Mar. Now, sir, thought is free: I pray you, Pring your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink.

Sir And. Wherefore, sweetheart? what'syour metaphor ?

Mar. It's dry, sir.

Sir And. Why, I think so; I am not such an
Ass, but I can keep my hand dry. But what's

your jest?

Mar. A dry jest, sir.

Sir And. Are you full of them?

Mar. Ay, sir; I have them at my fingers' ends:
marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren.
[Erit Maria.

Sir To. O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary: When did I see thee so put down?

Sir And. Never in your life, I think; unless you see canary put me down: Methinks, sometimes I have no more wit than a christian, or an ordinary man has: but I am a great eater of beef, and, I believe, that does harm to my wit. Sir To. No question.

Sir And. An 1 thought that, I'd forswear it.
I'll ride home to-morrow, Sir Toby.

Sr To. Pourquoy, my dear knight?

Sir And What is pourquoy? do or not do? I would I had bestowed that time in the tongues, that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baitIng: 0, had I but followed the arts?

Sir To. Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair?

Sir And. Why, would that have mended my hair 7

Sir To. Past question; for thou seest it will not cari by nature.

Sir And. But it becomes me well enough, does't not 3

Sir To. Excellent; it hangs like flax on a distaff; and I hope to see a housewife take thee between her legs and spin it off.

Sir And. 'Faith, I'll home to-morrow, Sir Toby: your niece will not be seen; or, if she be, it's four to one she'll none of me: the count himself, here hard by, woos her.

Sir To. What shall we do else? were we not born under Taurus?

Sir And. Taurus? that's sides and heart. Sir To. No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me see thee caper; ha! higher: ha, ha!-excellent!

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. A Room in the Duke's Palace
Enter Valentine and Viola in man's attire.

Val. If the Duke continue these favours towards you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced; he hath known you but three days, and already you are no stranger.

Vio. You either fear his humour, or my negligence, that you call in question the continuance of his love: Is he inconstant, sir, in his favours ?

Val. No, believe me.

Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants.
Vio. 1 thank you. Here comes the count.
Duke. Who saw Cesario, ho?

Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here.
Duke. Stand you awhile aloof. Cesario,
Thou know'st no less but all; I have unciasp'd
To thee the book even of my secret soul:
Therefore, good youth, address thygait unto her,
Be not deny'd access, stand at her doors,
And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow,
Till thou have audience.

Vio.

Sure, my noble lord,

If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow
As it is spoke, she never will admit me.
Duke. Be clamorous, and leap all civil bounds,
Rather than make unprofited return.

Vio. Say, I do speak with her, my lord; what
then?

Duke. O, then unfold the passion of my love,
Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith:
It shall become thee well to act my woes;
She will attend it better in thy youth,

Than in a nuncio of more grave aspect.

Vio. I think not so, my lord.

For they shall yet belie thy happy years
That say, thou art a man: Diana's lip
Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe
Is as the maiden's organ, shrill and sound,

And all is semblative a woman's part
I know thy constellation is right apt
For this affair: Some four or five attend him;
All, if you will; for I myself am best,
When least in company :-Prosper
er well in this,
To call his fortunes thine.

Sir To. She'll none o' the count; she'll not
match above her degree, neither in estate, years,
nor wit; I have heard her swear it. Tus, there's And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,
life in't man.