Simple.
Eva.
I pray you now, good Master Slender's serving-man,
and friend Simple by your name, which
way have you look'd for Master Caius, that calls himself
Doctor of Physick?
Simp.
Marry, sir, the Pitty-wary, the Park-ward,
every way, Old Windsor way, and every way, but the
town way.
Eva.
I most fehemently desire you, you will also look
that way.
Simp.
I will, sir.
Eva.
'Pless my soul, how full of cholars I am, and
trempling of mind! I shall be glad if he have deceived
me; how melancholies I am! I will knog his urinals
about his knave's costard, when I have good opportunities
for the ork; 'pless my soul:
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals;
There will we make our peds with roses,
And a thousand vagrant poses.
By shallow—
Mercy on me, I have a great disposition to cry!
Melodious birds sing madrigals
—When as I sat in pabilon;
And a thousand vagrant poses.
By shallow* note, &c.
Sim.
Yonder he is coming, this way, Sir Hugh.
Eva.
He's welcome. By shallow rivers to whose
falls—Heaven prosper the right! what weapons is he.
Sim.
No weapons, sir; there comes my master, Mr.
Shallow, and another gentleman from Frogmore, over the
stile, this way.
Eva.
Pray you, give me my gown, or else keep it
in your arms.
Enter Page, Shallow, and Slender.
Shal.
How now, Master Parson? Good-morrow, good
-- 37 --
Sir Hugh. Keep a gamester from the dice, and a good
student from his book, and it is wonderful.
Slen.
Ah, sweet Anne Page!
Page.
Save you, good Sir Hugh.
Eva.
'Ples you from his mercy sake, all of you.
Shal.
What the sword and the word?
Do you study them both, Mr. Parson?
Page.
And youthful still, in your doublet and hose,
this raw rheumatic day?
Eva.
There is reasons and causes for it.
Page.
We are come to you to do a good office, Mr.
Parson.
Eva.
Ferry well: what is it?
Page.
Yonder is a most reverend gentleman, who, belike,
having received wrong by some person, is at most
odds with his own gravity and patience, that ever you
saw.
Shal.
I have lived fourscore years and upwards; I
never heard a man of his place, gravity, and learning, so
wide of his own respect.
Eva.
What is he?
Page.
I think you know him—Mr. Doctor Caius, the
renowned French physician.
Eva.
Got's will, and his passion of my heart! I had
as lief you should tell me of a mess of porridge* note.
Page.
Why?
Eva.
He has no more knowledge in Hibocrates and
Galen; and he is a knave besides, a cowardly knave, as
you would desire to be acquainted withal.
Page.
I warrant you, he's the man should fight with
him.
Slen.
O sweet Anne Page!
Enter Host, Caius, and Rugby.
Shal.
It appears so by his weapons: keep them asunder;
here comes Doctor Caius.
Page.
Nay, good Mr. Parson, keep in your weapon.
-- 38 --
Shal.
So do you, good Mr. Doctor.
Host.
Disarm them, and let them question: let them
keep their limbs whole, and hack our English* note.
Caius.
I pray you, let a me speak a word with the
ear: wherefore will you not meet a me?
Eva.
Pray you, use your patience in good time.
Caius.
By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog, John
ape.
Eva.
Pray you, let us not be laughing stocks to other
men's humours; I desire you in friendship, and will one
way or other make you amends; I will knog your urinal
about your knave's cog's comb, for missing your meetings
and appointments.
Caius.
Diable! Jack Rugby, mine host de Jarter, have
not I stay for him, to kill him? have I not, at the place
I did appoint?
Eva.
As I am a Christian soul, now look you, this is
the place appointed; I'll be judgement by mine host of
the Garter.
Host.
Peace, I say; Gallia and Gaul, French and Welsh,
soul-curer and body-curer.
Caius.
Ay dat is very good, excellent.
Host.
Peace, I say; hear mine host of the Garter.
Am I politic? am I subtle? am I a Machiavel? Shall
I lose my doctor? no; he gives me the potions and
the motions. Shall I lose my parson? my priest? my
Sir Hugh? no; he gives me the proverbs, and the noverbs.
Give me thy hand, terrestrial; so give us thy
hand, celestial: so, boys of art, I have deceived you both,
I have directed you to wrong places; your hearts are
mighty, your skins are whole, and let burnt sack be
the issue. Come, lay their swords to pawn. Follow me,
lad of peace, follow, follow, follow† note.
Shal.
Trust me, a mad host! follow, gentlemen,
follow.
Slen.
O sweet Anne Page!
[Ex. Shal. Page, and Host.
-- 39 --
Caius.
Ha! do I perceive dat? Have you make a-de
sot of us, ha, ha?
Eva.
This is well, he has made us his vlouting-stog:
I desire you that we may be friends, and let us knog our
prains together, to be revenge on this same scall'd scurvy
cogging companion, the host of the Garter.
Caius.
By gar, with all my heart; he promise to bring
me where is Anne Page; by gar, he deceive me too.
Eva.
Well, I will smite his noddles; pray you
follow.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II,
a Street in Windsor.
Enter Mistress Page and Robin.
Mrs. Page.
Nay, keep your way, little gallant, you
were wont to be a follower, but now you are a leader:
whether had you rather lead mine eyes, or eye your
master's heels?
Rob.
I had rather, forsooth, go before you like a man,
than follow him like a dwarf.
Mrs. Page.
O you are a flattering boy, now you'll be
a courtier.
Enter Ford.
Ford.
Well met, Mistress Page; whither go you?
Mrs. Page.
Truly, sir, to see your wife; is she at
home?
Ford.
Ay, and as idle as she may hang together, for
want of company; I think, if your husbands were dead,
you two would marry.
Mrs. Page.
Be sure of that, two other husbands.
Ford.
Where had you this pretty weather-cock?
Mrs. Page.
I cannot tell what the dickens his name is,
my husband had him of: what do you call your knight's
name, sirrah?
Rob.
Sir John Falstaff.
Ford.
Sir John Falstaff!
Mrs. Page.
He, he; I can never hit his name; there
is such a league between my good man and he; is your
good wife at home, indeed?
-- 40 --
Ford.
Indeed, she is.
Mrs. Page.
By your leave, sir; I am sick till I see
her.
[Exeunt Mrs. Page and Robin.
* noteFord
Has Page any brains? hath he any eyes? hath
he any thinking? sure they sleep; he hath no use of
them. Why this boy will carry a letter twenty miles, as
easy as a cannon will shoot point-blank twelve score:
he pieces out his wife's inclination, he gives her folly
motion and advantage; and now she's going to my wife,
and Falstaff's boy with her. A man may hear this
shower sing in the wind; and Falstaff's boy with her!
good plots, they are laid. Well, I will take him, then
torture my wife, pluck the borrowed veil of modesty
from the so seeming Mrs. Page, divulge Page himself
for a secure and wilful Acteon—[Clock strikes ten.] The
clock gives me my cue, and my assurance bids me
search; there shall I find Falstaff: I shall be rather praised
for this, than mocked; for it is as positive as the earth is
firm, that Falstaff is there.
Enter Page, Shallow, Slender, Host, Evans, and Caius.
Shal. Page, &c.
Well met, Mr. Ford.
Ford.
Trust me, a good knot: I have good cheer at
home, and I pray you all go with me.
Shal.
I must excuse myself, Mr. Ford.
Slen.
And so must I, sir
We have appointed to dine with Mistress Anne;
And I would not break with her for more money
Than I'll speak of.
Shal.
We have linger'd about a match between Anne
Page and my cousin Slender; and this day we shall have
our answer.
Slen.
I hope I shall have your good will, father Page.
Page.
You have, Mr. Slender, I stand wholly for you;
but my wife, master doctor, is for you, all-together.
-- 41 --
Caius.
Ay, by gar, and de maid is love a-me: my
nursh-a-Quickly tell me so mush.
Host.
What say you to young Mr. Fenton? he capers,
he dances, he has eyes of youth, he writes verses, he
speaks holy-days, he smells April and May; he will
carry't, he will carry't, he will carry't.
Page.
Not by my consent, I promise you: The
wealth I have, waits on my consent, and my consent
goes not that way.
Ford.
I beseech you heartily, some of you go home
with me to dinner; besides your cheer, you shall have
sport; and I will shew you a monster. Mr. Doctor, you
shall go; so shall you, Mr. Page, and you Sir Hugh.
Shal.
Well, fare you well;
We shall have the freer wooing at Mr. Page's.
Caius.
Go home, John Rugby; I come anon.
Host.
Farewel, my heart; I will to my honest knight
Falstaff, and drink canary with him.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Ford's House.
Enter Mistress Ford, Mistress Page, and servants with a basket.
Mrs. Ford.
What John! what Robert!
Mrs. Page.
Quickly, quickly: Is the buck-basket—
Mrs. Ford.
I warrant. What, Robin, I say.
Mrs. Page.
Come, come, come.
Mrs. Ford.
Here, set it down.
Mrs. Page.
Give your men the charge, we must be
brief.
Mrs. Ford.
Marry, as I told you before, John and
Robert, be ready here hard-by in the brewhouse; and
when I suddenly call you, come forth, and, without any
pause or staggering, take this basket on your shoulders;
that done, trudge with it in all haste, and carry it
among the whitsters in Datchet mead, and there empty
it in the muddy ditch, close by the Thames side.
Mrs. Page.
You will do it?
-- 42 --
Mrs. Ford.
I ha' told them over and over; they lack
no direction. Be gone, and come when you are called.
Mrs. Page.
Here comes little Robin.
Enter Robin.
Mrs. Ford.
How now, my eyas-musket* note, what news
with you?
Rob.
My master, Sir John, is come in at your backdoor,
Mistress Ford, and requests your company.
Mrs. Page.
You little jack-a-lent, have you been true
to us?
Rob.
Ay, I'll be sworn; my master knows not of your
being here, and hath threaten'd to put me into everlasting
liberty, if I tell you of it; for he swears he'll
turn me away.
Mrs. Page.
Thou art a good boy; I'll go hide me.
Mrs. Ford.
Do so; go tell thy master I am alone;
Mistress Page, remember you your cue.
[Exit Rob.
Mrs. Page.
I warrant thee; if I do not act it, hiss me.
[Exit Mrs. Page.
Mrs. Ford.
Go to, then; we'll use this unwholsome
humidity, this gross watry pumpion—we'll teach him to
know turtles from jays.
Enter Falstaff.
Fal.
Have I caught thee, my heavenly jewel? This
is the period of my ambition: O this blessed hour!
Mrs. Ford.
O sweet Sir John!
Fal.
Mistress Ford, I cannot cog; I cannot flatter,
Mistress Ford. Now shall I sin in my wish. I would
thy husband were dead, I'll speak it before the best
lord in the land, I would make thee my lady.
Mrs. Ford.
I your lady, Sir John? Alas, I would be
a pitiful lady.
Fal.
Let the court of France shew me such another: I
see how thine eye would emulate the diamond: thou
hast the right arched bent of the brow.
-- 43 --
Mrs. Ford.
A plain kerchiffe, Sir John:
My brows become nothing else, nor that well, neither.
Fal.
Thou art a tyrant to say so, thou would'st make
an absolute courtier. If Fortune's thy foe, Nature is
thy friend: come, thou canst not hide it.
Mrs. Ford.
Believe me, there's no such thing in me.
Fal.
What made me love thee? let that persuade
thee. There's something extraordinary in thee. Come,
I cannot cog, and say, thou art this and that, like a
many of these lisping haw-thorn buds that come like
women in men's apparel, and smell like Bucklers-Bury
in simpling-time: I cannot; but I love thee, none
but thee; and thou deservest it.
Mrs. Ford.
Do not betray me, sir; I fear you love Mistress
Page.
Fal.
Thou might'st as well say I love to walk by the
Counter-gate, which is as hateful to me as the reek of a
lime-kiln* note.
Mrs. Ford.
Well, 'tis certain I love you, and you
shall one day find it.
Fal.
Keep in that mind; I'll deserve it.
Mrs. Ford.
Nay, I must tell you, so you do: or else I
could not be in that mind.
Rob. [within]
Mistress Ford, Mistress Ford, here's
Mistress Page at the door, and must needs speak with
you presently.
Fal.
She shall not see me; I will ensconce me behind
the arras.
Mrs. Ford.
Pray you do so; she's a very tattling
woman.
Enter Mrs. Page.
What's the matter? how now?
Mrs. Page.
O Mistress Ford, what have you done,
now? You're sham'd, you're overthrown, you're undone,
for ever.
Mrs. Ford.
What's the matter, good Mistress Page?
-- 44 --
Mrs. Page.
O well a day, Mistress Ford, having an
honest man to your husband, to give him such cause of
suspicion!
Mrs. Ford.
What cause of suspicion?
Mrs. Page.
What cause of suspicion! Out upon you;
how am I mistook in you!
Mrs. Ford.
What alas! what's the matter?
Mrs. Page.
Your husband's coming hither, woman,
with all the officers in Windsor, to search for a gentleman
that he says is here now in the house, by your
consent, to take an ill advantage of his absence. You
are undone.
Mrs. Ford.
'Tis not so, I hope.
Mrs. Page.
Pray heav'n it be not so, that you have
such a man here; but 'tis most certain your husband's
coming with half Windsor at his heels, to search for such
a one. I come before to tell you: if you know yourself
clear, why I am glad of it; but if you have a friend
here, convey, convey him out. Be not amaz'd, call all
your senses to you, defend your reputation, or bid farewel
to your good life, for ever* note.
Mrs. Ford.
What shall I do? there is a gentleman,
my dear friend; and I fear not mine own shame so much
as his peril. I had rather than a thousand pound he
were out of the house.
Mrs. Page.
For shame, never stand you had rather,
and you had rather; your husband's here at hand, bethink
you of some conveyance; in the house you cannot
hide him. Oh, how you have deceived me! look, here
is a basket; if he be of any reasonable stature, he may
creep in here, and throw foul linen upon him, as if it
were going to bucking: or it is whiting time, send him
by your two men to Datchet mead.
Mrs. Ford.
He is too big to go in there: what shall
I do!
-- 45 --
Re-enter Falstaff.
Fal.
Let me see't, let me see't, O let me see't,
I'll in, I'll in; follow your friend's counsel; I'll in* note.
Mrs. Page.
What, Sir John Falstaff? are these your
letters, knight?
Fal.
I love thee, help me away! let me creep in here:
I'll never—
[He goes into the basket, they cover him with foul linen.
Mrs. Page.
Help to cover him; call your men, Mrs.
Ford. You dissembling knight!
Mrs. Ford.
What, John, Robert, John, go take up these
cloaths here quickly. Where's the cowl-staff? Carry
them to the laundress, at Datchet mead; quickly, come.
Enter Ford, Page, Caius, and Evans.
Ford.
Pray you come near; if I suspect, without cause,
why then make sport at me, then let me be your jest, I
deserve it. How now? whither bear you this?
Ser.
To the laundress, forsooth.
Mrs. Ford.
Why, what have you to do whither they
bear it? You were best meddle with buck-washing!
Ford.
Buck? I would I could wash myself of the
buck: buck, buck, buck, ay, buck: I warrant you, buck,
and of the season too, it shall appear.
[Exeunt Servants with the basket.
Gentlemen, I have dreamt to night, I'll tell you my
dream: here, here, here, by my eyes; ascend my chambers,
search, seek, find out. I'll warrant we'll unkennel
the fox. Let me stop this way, first: so, now uncape.
Page.
Good Master Ford, be contented:
You wrong yourself too much.
Ford.
True, Master Page. Up, gentlemen, you shall
see sport anon; follow me, gentlemen.
Eva.
This is ferry fantastical humours and jealousies.
Caius.
By gar, 'tis no the fashion of France; it is not
jealous in France—
-- 46 --
Page.
Nay, follow him, gentlemen; see the issue of
his search.
[Exeunt.
Manent Mistress Page and Mistress Ford
Mrs. Page.
Is there not a double excellency in
this?
Mrs. Ford.
I know not which pleases me better, that
my husband is deceived, or Sir John.
Mrs. Page.
What a taking was he in, when your
husband ask'd who was in the basket!
Mrs. Ford.
I am half afraid he will have need of
washing; so throwing him into the water will do him a
benefit.
Mrs. Page.
Hang him, dishonest rascal; I would all
of the same strain were in the same distress.
Mrs. Ford.
I think my husband hath some special
suspicion of Falstaff's being here! I never saw him so
gross in his jealousy, till now.
Mrs. Page.
I will lay a plot to try that, and we will
yet have more tricks with Falstaff.
Mrs. Ford.
Shall we send that foolish carrion, Mistress
Quickly, to him, and excuse his throwing into the water,
and give him another hope, to betray him to another
punishment?
Mrs. Page.
We'll do it; let him be sent for, to-morrow,
by eight o'clock, to have amends.
Re-enter Ford, Page, &c.
Ford.
I cannot find him: may be, the knave bragg'd
of that he could not compass.
Mrs. Page.
Heard you that?
Mrs. Ford.
I, I, peace;—you use me well, Master
Ford, do you?
Ford.
Ay, ay, I do so.
Mrs. Page.
Heav'n make you better than your thoughts!
Ford.
Amen.
Mrs. Page.
You do yourself mighty wrong, Mr. Ford.
-- 47 --
Ford.
Ay, ay; I must bear it.
Enter Evans.
Eva.
If there be any pody in the house, and in the
chambers, and in the coffers, and in the presses, heav'n
forgive my sins!
Caius.
By gar, nor I too: there is no bodies.
Page.
Fye, fye, Mr. Ford, are you not ashamed?
What spirit, what devil, suggests this imagination? I
would not have your distemper in this kind, for the
wealth of Windsor-Castle.
Ford.
'Tis my fault, Mr. Page, I suffer for it.
Eva.
You suffer for pad conscience; your wife is as
honest a 'omans, as I will desires among five thousand,
and five hundred too.
Caius.
By gar, I see 'tis an honest woman.
Ford.
Well, I promised you a dinner; come, come,
walk in the park. I pray you, pardon me; I will hereafter
make known to you why I have done this. Come,
wife; come, Mistress Page; I pray you pardon me:
pray heartily pardon me.
Page.
Let's go in, gentlemen; but, trust me, we'll
mock him. I do invite you to-morrow morning to my
house to breakfast; after, we'll a birding together; I
have a fine hawk for the bush. Shall it be so?
Ford.
Any thing.
Pray you go, Mr. Page.
Eva.
I pray you now remembrance to-morrow on the
lousy knave, mine host.
Caius.
Dat is good, by gar, with all my heart.
Eva.
A lousy knave! to have his gibes, and his
mockeries.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Mr. Page's House.
Enter Fenton, and Mistress Anne Page.
Fent.
I see I cannot get thy father's love;
Therefore no more turn me to him, sweet Nan.
-- 48 --
Anne.
Alas! how then?
Fent.
He doth object I am too great of birth,
And that, my state being gall'd with my expence,
I seek to heal it only by his wealth.
Besides these, other bars he lays before me,
My riots past, my wild societies;
And tells me, 'tis a thing impossible
I should love thee, but as a property.
Anne.
May be, he tells you true.
Fent.
No, heav'n so speed me in my time to come!
Albeit, I will confess, thy father's wealth
Was the first motive that I woo'd thee, Anne:
Yet, wooing thee, I found thee of more value,
Than stamps in gold, or sums in sealed bags;
And 'tis the very riches of thyself,
That now I aim at.
Anne.
Gentle Mr. Fenton,
Yet seek my father's love, still seek it, sir:
If opportunity and humblest suit
Cannot attain it, why then—hark you hither.
Enter Shallow, Slender, and Mistress Quickly.
Shal.
Break their talk, Mistress Quickly.
My kinsman shall speak for himself.
Slen.
I'll make a shaft or a bolt on it: 'D'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.
Quic.
Hark'ye; Mr. 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
Look handsome in three hundred pounds a year!
Quic.
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, Mrs. Anne; my uncle can tell you
good jests of him. Pray you, uncle, tell Mrs. Anne the
-- 49 --
jest, how my father stole two geese out of a pen, good
uncle.
Shal.
Mrs. Anne, my cousin loves you.
Slen.
Ay, that I do, as well as I love any woman in
Gloucestershire.
Shal.
He will maintain you like a gentlewoman.
Slen.
Ay, that I will; come cut and long tail, under
the degree of a squire.
Shal.
He will make you a hundred and fifty pounds
a year jointure.
Anne.
Good Master Shallow, let him woo for himself.
Shal.
Marry, I thank you for it; I thank you for that
good comfort; she calls you, Coz. I'll leave you.
Anne.
Now, Master Slender.
Slen.
Now, good Mrs. Anne.
Anne.
What is your will?
Slen.
My will? Od's-heart-lings, that's a pretty jest,
indeed: I ne'er made my will yet, I thank heav'n; I am
not such a sickly creature, I give heav'n praise.
Anne.
I mean, Mr. Slender, what would you with me?
* noteSlen.
Truly, for my 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?
You wrong me, sir, thus still to haunt my house:
I told you, sir, my daughter is dispos'd of.
Fen.
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.
Knowing my mind, you wrong me, Master Fenton.
[Exeunt Page, Shallow, and Slender.
-- 50 --
Quic.
Speak to Mistress Page.
Fent.
Good Mistress Page, for that I love your daughter,
In such a righteous fashion as I do,
Let me have your good will.
Anne.
Good mother, do not marry me to yon fool.
Mrs. Page.
I mean it not, I seek you a better husband.
Quic.
That is my master, Master Doctor.
Anne.
Alas, I had rather be set quick i' th' earth.
Mrs. Page.
Come, trouble not yourself, good Master Fenton.
I will not be your friend, nor enemy:
My daughter will I question how she loves you;
And as I find her, so am I affected.
'Till then farewel, sir; she must needs go in,
Her father will be angry.
[Exeunt Mrs. Page and Anne.
Fent.
Farewel, gentle mistress; farewel Nan.
Quic.
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 to night,
Give my sweet Nan this ring. There's for thy pains.
[Exit.
Quic.
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 Mr. Slender had
her; or, in sooth, I would Mr. 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 Mr. Fenton. Well, I must of another errand to Sir
John Falstaff, from my two mistresses; what a beast am
I, to slack it!
SCENE V.
The Garter Inn.
Enter Falstaff and Bardolph.
Fal.
Bardolph!
Bard.
Here, sir.
Fal.
Go fetch me a quart of sack, put a toast in't. [Ex.
Bard.] Have I liv'd to be carry'd in a basket, like a barrow
of butcher's offal, and to be thrown into the Thames? Well,
-- 51 --
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 remorse as they would have drown'd a
bitch's blind puppies, fifteen i' th' litter; and you may
know, 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 drown'd, but the shore was shelvy
and shallow; a death that I abhor; for the water swells
a man: and what a thing would I have been when I
had been swelled! I should have been a mountain
of mummy* note.
Enter Bardolph.
Bard.
Here's Mrs. 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 swallow'd snowballs,
for pills. Call her in.
Bard.
Come in, woman.
Enter Mrs. Quickly.
Quic.
By your leave: I cry you mercy.
Give your worship good-morrow,
Fal.
Bardolph!
Go brew me a pottle of sack, finely.
Bard.
With eggs, sir?
Fal.
Simple of itself: I'll no pullet-sperm in my
brewage. How now?
Quic.
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.
Quic.
Alas the day! good heart, that was not her
fault: She does so take on with her men; they mistook
their erection.
Ful.
So did I mine, to build on a foolish woman's
promise.
-- 52 --
Quic.
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.
* noteFal.
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.
Quic.
I will tell her.
Fal.
Do so. Between nine and ten, say'st thou?
Quic.
Eight and nine, sir.
Fal.
Well, be gone, I will not miss her.
Quic.
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. Oh,
here he comes.
Enter Ford.
Ford.
Bless you, sir.
Fal.
Now, Master Brook, you come to know what
hath pass'd between me and Ford's wife.
Ford.
That, indeed, Sir John, is my business.
Fal.
Master Brook, I will not lye to you;
I was at her house the hour she appointed me.
Ford.
And you sped, sir.
Fal.
Very ill-favour'dly, Master Brook.
Ford.
How, 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 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.
-- 53 --
Ford.
What, while you were there!
Fal.
While I was there.
Ford.
And did he search for you, and could not find
you?
Fal.
You shall hear. As good luck would have it,
comes in one Mistress Page, gives intelligence of Ford's
approach, and, by her invention, and Ford's wife's direction,
they convey'd me into a buck-basket.
Ford.
A buck-basket?
Fal.
Yea, 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 villainous smell that ever offended nostril.
Ford.
And how long lay you there?
Fal.
Nay, you shall hear, Master Brook, what I have
suffer'd to bring this woman to evil, for your good. Being
thus cramm'd 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 cloaths, to Datchet-lane. They took
me on their shoulders, met the jealous knave their master,
at the door, who ask'd 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 cloaths; but mark the
sequel, Master Brook, I suffer'd the pangs of three egregious
deaths: First, an intolerable fright, to be detected
by a jealous rotten bell-weather; next, to be compassed
like a good* note bilbo, in the circumference of a peck, hilt
to point, heel to head; and then to be stopt, like a strong
distillation, with stinking cloaths, 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 cool'd, glowing hot,
-- 54 --
in that surge, like a horse-shoe; think of that; hissing
hot; think of that, Master Brook* note.
Ford.
In good sadness, sir, I am sorry that for my
sake you have suffer'd all this. My suit is then desperate;
you'll undertake her no more?
Fal.
Master Brook, I will be thrown into Ætna, as I
have been into the 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.
Fal.
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 buck-baskets!
Well, I will proclaim myself what I am; I
will now take the letcher; he is at my house; he cannot
'scape me, 'tis impossible he should; he cannot creep
into a half-penny purse, nor into a pepper-box. But,
lest the Devil that guides him should aid him, I will
search impossible places. Though what I am I cannot
avoid, yet to be what I would not, shall not make
me tame; if I have horns to make one mad, let the
proverb go with me, I'll be horn mad.
[Exit.† note
-- 55 --
John Bell [1774], Bell's Edition of Shakespeare's Plays, As they are now performed at the Theatres Royal in London; Regulated from the Prompt Books of each House By Permission; with Notes Critical and Illustrative; By the Authors of the Dramatic Censor (Printed for John Bell... and C. Etherington [etc.], York) [word count] [S10401].
