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Enter PAGE. Page. Come, gentle Master Slender, come; we stay for you.

sir.

Slen. I'll eat nothing, I thank you, sir.
Page. By cock and pye, you shall not choose,
Come, come.

Slen. Nay; pray you, lead the way.
Page. Come on, sir.

Slen. Mistress Anne, yourself shall go first.
Anne. Not I, sir; pray you, keep on.
Slen. Truly, I will not go first: truly,-la, I
will not do you that wrong.

Anne. I pray you, sir. [some. Slen. I'll rather be unmannerly, than troubleYou do yourself wrong, indeed,-la. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The Same.

Enter Sir HUGH EVANS and SIMPLE. Eva. Go your ways, and ask of Doctor Caius' house, which is the way; and there dwells one Mistress Quickly, which is in the manner of his nurse, or his dry nurse, or his cook, or his laundry, his washer, and his wringer.

Sim. Well, Sir.

Eva. Nay, it is petter yet. Give her this letter; for it is a 'oman that altogether's acquaintance with Mistress Anne Page: and the letter is, to desire and require her to solicit your master's desires to Mistress Anne Page: I pray you, be gone. I will make an end of my dinner: there's pippins and cheese to come. [Exeunt severally. SCENE III.-A Room in the Garter Inn. Enter FALSTAFF, Host, BARDOLPH, NYM, PISTOL, and ROBIN.

Fal. Mine Host of the Garter! Host. What says my bully-rock? Speak scholarly and wisely. [of my followers. Fal. Truly, mine Host, I must turn away some Host. Discard, bully Hercules; cashier: let them wag; trot, trot.

Fal. I sit at ten pounds a week.

Host. Thou'rt an emperor, Cæsar, Keisar, and Pheazar. I will entertain Bardolph; he shall draw, he shall tap: said I well, bully Hector? Fal. Do so, good mine Host.

Host. I have spoke; let him follow.-Let me see thee froth, and lime. I am at a word; follow. [Exit Host. Fal. Bardolph, follow him. A tapster is a good trade: an old cloak makes a new jerkin; a wither'd servingman, a fresh tapster. Go; adieu. Bard. It is a life that I have desir'd. I will thrive. [Exit BARD. Pist. O base Hungarian wight! wilt thou the spigot wield? [humour of it. Nym. His mind is not heroick, and there's the Fal. I am glad I am so acquit of this tinderbox: his thefts were too open; his filching was like an unskilful singer, he kept not time. [rest. Nym. The good humour is to steal at a minute's Pist. Convey the wise it call. Steal? foh! a fico for the phrase!

Fal. Well, sirs, I am almost out at heels. Pist. Why then, let kibes ensue. Fal. There is no remedy; I must shift. Pist. Young ravens must have food. Fal. Which of you know Ford of this town? Pist. I ken the wight: he is of substance good. Fal. My honest lads, I will tell you what I am Pist. Two yards, and more. [about. Fal. No quips now, Pistol :-Indeed I am in the waist two yards about; but I am now about no waste; I am about thrift.-Briefly, I do mean to make love to Ford's wife: I spy entertainment in her; she discourses, she carves, she gives the

leer of invitation. I can construe the action of her familiar style; and the hardest voice of her behaviour, to be English'd rightly, is, "I am Sir John Falstaff's."

Pist. He hath studied her well, and translated her will-out of honesty into English. [pass? Nym. The anchor is deep: will that humour Fal. Now, the report goes, she has all the rule of her husband's purse.

Nym. The humour rises; it is good.

Fal. I have writ me here a letter to her; and here another to Page's wife, who even now gave me good eyes too: she bears the purse too; she is a region in Guiana, all gold and bounty. I will be cheater to them both, and they shall be exchequers to me: they shall be my East and West Indies, and I will trade to them both. Go, bear thou this letter to Mistress Page; and thou, this to Mistress Ford. We will thrive, lads, we will thrive.

Pist. Shall I Sir Pandarus of Troy become, And by my side wear steel?-then, Lucifer take all! Nym. I will run no base humour: here, take the humour letter. I will keep the 'haviour of reputation.

Fal. Hold, sirrah; [to ROBIN,] bear you these letters tightly:

Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores.— Rogues, hence! avaunt! vanish like hailstones; go; Trudge; plod away o' the hoof; seek shelter; pack! Falstaff will learn the humour of this age, French thrift, you rogues: myself, and skirted page. [Exeunt FALSTAFF and ROBIN. Pist. Let vultures gripe thee! for gourd, and fullam holds,

And high and low beguile the rich and poor. Tester I'll have in pouch, when thou shalt lack, Base Phrygian Turk.

Nym. I have operations [in my head], which be humours of revenge.

Pist. Wilt thou revenge?
Nym.

By welkin, and her star.

Pist. With wit, or steel? Nym.

With both the humours, I:

I will discuss the humour of this love to Page.
Pist. And I to Ford shall eke unfold,
How Falstaff, varlet vile,

His dove will prove, his gold will hold,
And his soft couch defile.

Nym. My humour shall not cool: I will incense Page to deal with poison; I will possess him with yellowness, for the revolt of mine is dangerous: that is my true humour.

Pist. Thou art the Mars of malcontents; I second thee: troop on. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-A Room in Dr. CAIUS's House. Enter Mrs. QUICKLY, SIMPLE, and RUGBY.

Quick. What, John Rugby !-I pray thee, go to the casement, and see if you can see my master, Master Doctor Caius, coming. If he do, i' faith, and find any body in the house, here will be an old abusing of the King's English.

Rug. I'll go watch.

[Exit RUGBY.

Quick. Go; and we'll have a posset for't soon at night, at the latter end of a sea-coal fire. An honest, willing, kind fellow, as ever servant shall come in house withal; and, I warrant you, no tell-tale, nor no breed-bate: his worst fault is, that he is given to prayer; he is something peevish that way; but nobody but has his fault; but let that pass. Peter Simple, you say your name is?

Sim. Ay, for fault of a better.

Quick. And Master Slender's your master?

Sim. Ay, forsooth.

Quick. Does he not wear a great round beard, like a glover's paring-knife?

Sim. No, forsooth: he hath but a little wee face, with a little yellow beard-a cane-color'd beard. Quick. A softly-sprighted man, is he not? Sim. Ay, forscoth; but he is as tall a man of his hands, as any is between this and his head: he hath fought with a warrener.

Quick. How say you?-O! I should remember him: does he not hold up his head, as it were, and strut in his gait?

Sim. Yes, indeed, does he.

Quick. Well, Heaven send Anne Page no worse fortune! Tell Master Parson Evans I will do what I can for your master: Anne is a good girl, and I wish

Enter RUGBY.

Rug. Out, alas! here comes my master. [Exit. Quick. We shall all be shent. Run in here, good young man; go into this closet. [Shuts SIMPLE in the closet.] He will not stay long.What, John Rugby! John! what, John, I say!Go, John, go inquire for my master; I doubt, he be not well, that he comes not home:-[Sings:] and down, down, adown-a, &c.

Enter Doctor CAIUS.

Caius. Vat is you sing? I do not like dese toys. Pray you, go and vetch me in my closset un boitier verd; a box, a green-a box: do intend vat I speak? a green-a box.

Quick. Ay, forsooth; I'll fetch it you. [Aside.] I am glad he went not in himself: if he had found the young man, he would have been horn-mad. Caius. Fe, fe, fe, fe! ma foi, il fait fort chaud. Jem' en vais à la Cour,-la grande affaire.

Quick. Is it this, sir?

Caius. Ouy; mette le au mon pocket; dépêche, quickly.-Vere is dat knave Rugabie? Quick. What, John Rugby! John!

Rug. Here, sir.

Enter RUGBY.

Caius. You are John Rugabie, and you are Jack Rogue-by: come, take-a your rapier, and come after my heel to de Court.

Rug. 'Tis ready, sir, here in the porch. Carus. By my trot, I tarry too long.-Od's me! Qu'ay j'oublié? dere is some simples in my closset, dat I vill not for de varld I shall leave behind. Quick. [Aside.] Ah me! he'll find the young man there, and be mad.

Caius. O diable, diable! vat is in my closset? -Villainy! larron! [Pulling SIMPLE out.] Rugabie, my rapier!

Quick. Good master, be content. Caius. Verefore shall I be content-a? Quick. The young man is an honest man. Caius. Vat shall de honest man do in my closset? dere is no honest man dat shall come in my closset. Quick. I beseech you, be not so phlegmatic; hear the truth of it: he came of an errand to me from Parson Hugh.

Caius. Vell?

Sim. Ay, forsooth, to desire her to-Quick. Peace, I pray you. [tale. Caius. Peace-a your tongue!-Speak-a your Sim. To desire this honest gentlewoman, your maid, to speak a good word to Mistress Anne Page for my master, in the way of marriage. Quick. This is all, indeed,-la! but I'll ne'er put my finger in the fire, and need not.

Caius. Sir Hugh send-a you ?-Rugabie, baillez me some paper: tarry you a littel-a while. [ Writes.

Quick. I am glad he is so quiet: if he had been thoroughly moved, you should have heard him so loud, and so melancholy.-But notwithstanding, man, I'll do your master what good I can: and the very yea and the no is, the French doctor, my master,-I may call him my master, look you, for I keep his house; and I wash, wring, brew, bake, scour, dress meat and drink, make the beds, and do all myself;-

Sim. 'Tis a great charge to come under one body's hand.

Quick. Are you advis'd o' that? you shall find it a great charge and to be up early and down late; but notwithstanding, to tell you in your ear, (I would have no words of it,) my master himself is in love with Mistress Anne Page: but notwithstanding that, I know Anne's mind; that's neither here nor there.

Caius. You jack'nape, give-a dis letter to Sir Hugh; by gar, it is a shallenge: I vill cut his troat in de park; and I vill teach a scurvy jacka-nape priest to meddle or make.-You may be gone; it is not good you tarry here. [Exit SIMPLE.

Quick. Alas! he speaks but for his friend. Caius. It is no matter-a vor dat :-do not you tell-a me, dat I shall have Anne Page for myself? -By gar, I vill kill de Jack priest; and I have appointed mine Host of the Jarretière to measure our weapon.-By gar, I vill myself have Anne Page.

Quick. Sir, the maid loves you, and all shall be well. We must give folks leave to prate.

Caius. Rugabie, come to de court vit me.[To Mrs. QUICK.] By gar, if I have not Anne Page, I shall turn your head out of my door.Follow my heels, Rugabie. Exeunt CAIUS and RUGBY.

Quick. You shall have An fool's-head of your own. No, I know Anne's mind for that: never a woman in Windsor knows more of Anne's mind than I do, nor can do more than I do with her.

Fenton. [Within.] Who's within there, hoa? Quick. Who's there, I trow? Come near the house, I pray you.

Enter FENTON.

Fent. How now, good woman! how dost thou? Quick. The better, that it pleases your good worship to ask.

Fent. What news? how does pretty Mistress Anne?

Quick. In truth, sir, and she is pretty, and honest, and gentle; and one that is your friend, I can tell you that by the way; I praise Heaven for it.

Fent. Shall I do any good, think'st thou? my suit?

Shall I not lose

Quick. Troth, sir, all is in His hands above: but notwithstanding, Master Fenton, I'll be sworn on a book, she loves you.-Have not your worship a wart above your eye?

Fent. Yes, marry, have I; what of that? Quick. Well, thereby hangs a tale.-Good faith, it is such another Nan;-but, I detest, an honest maid as ever broke bread :-we had an hour's talk of that wart.--I shall never laugh but in that maid's company;-but, indeed, she is given too much to allicholly and musing. But for youwell, go to.

Fent. Well, I shall see her to-day. Hold, there's money for thee; let me have thy voice in my behalf: if thou seest her before me, commend me

Quick. Will I? i'faith, that we will; and I will tell your worship more of the wart, the next time we have confidence, and of other wooers.

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SCENE I.-Before PAGE's House. Enter Mistress PAGE, with a Letter. Mrs. Page. WHAT! have I 'scap'd love-letters in the holyday time of my beauty, and am I now a subject for them? Let me see. [Reads. "Åsk me no reason why I love you; for though love use reason for his precisian, he admits him not for his counsellor. You are not young, no more am I go to, then, there's sympathy. You are merry, so am I; ha! ha! then there's more sympathy: you love sack, and so do I; would you desire better sympathy? Let it suffice thee, Mistress Page, (at the least, if the love of a soldier can suffice) that I love thee. I will not say, pity me, 'tis not a soldier-like phrase; but I say, love me. By me,

Thine own true knight,
By day or night,
With all his might,

For thee to fight.

JOHN FALSTAFF."

tuns of oil in him, ashore at Windsor? How shall I be revenged on him? I think, the best way were to entertain him with hope, till the wicked fire have melted him.--Did you ever hear the like?

Mrs. Page. Letter for letter, but that the name of Page and Ford differs!-To thy great comfort in this mystery of ill opinions, here's the twinbrother of thy letter: but let thine inherit first; for I protest mine never shall. I warrant he hath a thousand of these letters, writ with blank space for different names, (sure more,) and these are of the second edition. He will print them, out of doubt.

Mrs. Ford. Why, this is the very same; the very hand, the very words. What doth he think of us? Mrs. Page. Nay, I know not: it makes me almost ready to wrangle with mine own honesty. I'll entertain myself like one that I am not acquainted withal; for, sure, unless he know some strain in me that I know not myself, he would never have boarded me in this fury. Let's be reveng'd on him: let's appoint him a meeting, give him a show of comfort in his suit, and lead him on with a fine-baited delay, till he hath pawn'd his horses to mine Host of the Garter.

an unmeasurable distance.

Mrs. Ford. Nay, I will consent to act any villainy against him, that may not sully the chariness of our honesty. O, that my husband saw this letter! it would give eternal food to his jealousy. Mrs. Page. Why, look, where he comes; and my good man too: he's as far from jealousy, as I O wicked, wicked world !-One that is well nigham from giving him cause; and that, I hope, is worn to pieces with age, to show himself a young gallant! What unweighed behaviour hath this Flemish drunkard pick'd out of my conversation, that he dares in this manner assay me? Why, he hath not been thrice in my company! --What should I say to him?-I was then frugal of my mirth.-Why, I'll exhibit a Bill in the Parliament for the putting down of men. How shall I be reveng'd on him? for reveng'd I will be.

Enter Mistress FORD.

Mrs. Ford. Mistress Page! trust me, I was going to your house.

Mrs. Page. And, trust me, I was coming to you. You look very ill.

Mrs. Ford. Nay, I'll ne'er believe that: I have to show to the contrary.

Mrs. Page. 'Faith, but you do, in my mind. Mrs. Ford. Well, I do then; yet, I say, I could show you to the contrary. O, Mistress Page! give me some counsel.

Mrs. Page. What's the matter, woman? Mrs. Ford. O woman! if it were not for one trifling respect, I could come to such honour. Mrs. Page. Hang the trifle, woman; take the honour. What is it?-dispense with trifles;what is it?

Mrs. Ford. If I would but go to Hell for an eternal moment, I could be knighted.

Mrs. Page. What?-Sir Alice Ford! Mrs. Ford. We burn day-light:-here, read, read;-perceive how I might be knighted.-I shall think the worse of fat men, as long as I have an eye to make difference of men's liking: and yet he would not swear, prais'd women's modesty, and gave such orderly and well-behaved reproof to all uncomeliness, that I would have sworn his disposition would have gone to the truth of his words; but they do no more adhere and keep place together, than the Hundredth Psalm to the tune of Green Sleeves. What tempest, I trow, threw this whale, with so many

Mrs. Ford. You are the happier woman. Mrs. Page. Let's consult together against this greasy knight. Come hither. [They retire.

Enter FORD and PISTOL, PAGE and NYM: the

last two talk aside.

Ford. Well, I hope it be not so.

Pist. Hope is a curtail dog in some affairs:
Sir John affects thy wife.

Ford. Why, sir, my wife is not young. [poor,
Pist. He woos both high and low, both rich and
Both young and old, one with another, Ford.
He loves the gally-mawfry: Ford, perpend.
Ford. Love my wife?

[thou,

Pist. With liver burning hot: prevent, or go Like Sir Actæon he, with Ring-wood at thy heels. O! odious is the name.

Ford. What name, sir?

Pist. The horn, I say. Farewell: [night: Take heed; have open eye, for thieves do foot by Take heed, ere summer comes, or cuckoo birds do sing.

Away, Sir Corporal Nym.

Believe it, Page; he speaks sense. [Exit PISTOL.
Ford. I will be patient: I will find out this.

Nym. And this is true: I like not the humour of lying. He hath wronged me in some humours: I should have borne the humour'd letter to her, but I have a sword, and it shall bite upon my necessity. He loves your wife; there's the short and the long. My name is Corporal Nym: I speak, and I avouch; 'tis true :-my name is Nym, and Falstaff loves your wife.-Adieu. I love not the humour of bread and cheese; and there's the humour of it. Adieu.

[Exit NYM.

Page. "The humour of it," quoth 'a! here's a fellow frights English out of his wits.

[Each talking to himself.

[rogue,

Ford. I will seek out Falstaff.
Page. I never heard such a drawling-affecting
Ford. If I do find it, well.
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