Host.

What wouldst thou have, boor? what, thick-skin? speak, breathe, discuss; brief, short, quick, snap.

Simp.

Marry, sir, I come to speak with Sir John Falstaff, from Mr. Slender.

Host.

There's his chamber, his house, his castle, his standing-bed and truckle-bed; 'tis painted about with the story of the Prodigal, fresh and new: go, knock and call! he'll speak like an Anthropophaginian unto thee: knock, I say.

Simp.

There's an old woman, a fat woman, gone up into his chamber; I'll be so bold as to stay, sir, till she come down; I come to speak with her, indeed.

Host.

Ha! a fat woman? the knight may be robb'd: I'll call. Bully knight! bully Sir John! speak from thy lungs military: art thou there? It is thine Host, thine Ephesian, calls.

Fal.

How now, mine Host?

Host.

Here's a Bohemian Tartar tarries the coming down of thy fat woman: let her descend, bully, let her descend; my chambers are honourable: fy, privacy! fy.

Fal.

There was, mine host, an old fat woman even now with me; but she's gone.

Simp.

Pray you, sir, was't not the wise woman of Brentford?

Fal.

Ay, marry was it, mussel-shell* ^note, what would you with her?

Simp.

My master, sir, my master Slender, sent to her, seeing her go thro' the street, to know, sir, whether one Nym, sir, that beguil'd him of a chain, had the chain or no.

Fal.

I spake with the old woman about it.

Simp.

And what says she, I pray, sir?

Fal.

Marry, she says, that the very same man that beguil'd Master Slender of his chain, cozen'd him of it.

Simp.

I would I could have spoken with the woman herself. I had other things to have spoken with her too; from him.

Fal.

What are they? let us know.

Host.

Ay, come; quick.

Simp.

I may not conceal them, sir.

Host.

Conceal 'em, or thou dy'st.

Simp.

Why, sir, they were nothing but about Mistress Anne Page, to know if it were my master's fortune to have her or no.

Fal.

'Tis, 'tis his fortune.

Simp.

What, sir?

Fal.

To have her, or no: go, say the woman told me so.

Simp.

May I be so bold to say so, sir?

Fal.

Ay, sir; like who more bold.

Simp.

I thank your worship: I shall make my master glad with these tidings.

Host.

Thou art clerkly; thou art clerkly, Sir John: was there a wise woman with thee?

Fal.

Ay, that there was, mine Host, one that hath taught me more wit, than ever I learn'd before, in my life; and I paid nothing for it neither, but was paid for my learning. [Exit Host.] If it should come to the ear of the court, how I have been transformed, and how my transformation hath been washed and cudgeled, they would melt me out of my fat, drop by drop, and liquor fishermens boots with it. I warrant, they would whip

me with their fine wits, till I were as crest-fal'n as a dry'd pear. I never prosper'd since I foreswore myself at Primero. Well, if my wind were but long enough to say my prayers, I would repent. Now, whence come you?

Quic.

From the two parties, forsooth.

Fal.

The devil take one party, and his dam the other, and so they shall be both bestowed; I have suffered more for their sakes, more than the villainous inconstancy of man's disposition is able to bear.

Quic.

And have not they suffered? yes, I warrant, speciously one of them; Mistress Ford, good heart, is beaten black and blue, that you cannot see a white spot about her.

Fal.

What tell'st thou me of black and blue! I was beaten myself into all the colours of the rain-bow; and I was like to be apprehended for the witch of Brentford; but that my admirable dexterity of wit, counterfeiting the action of a mad woman, delivered me, the knave constable had set me i'th' stocks, i'th' common stocks, for a witch.

Quic.

Sir, let me speak with you, in your chamber; you shall hear how things go, and, I warrant, to your content. Here is a letter will say somewhat. Good hearts, what ado is here to bring you together!

Fal.

Come up into my chamber.

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