Fent.
I see I cannot get thy father's love;
Therefore no more turn me to him, sweet Nan.

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

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.