Page's house.
Enter Mrs. Page, with a letter.
Mrs. Page.
What, have I 'scap'd love-letters in the
holy-day-time of my beauty, and am I now
a subject for them? let me see:
Ask me no reason, why I love you; for tho' 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 is 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,
Or any kind of light, with all his might,
For thee to fight.
John Falstaff.
What a Herod of Jury is this? O wicked, wicked
world! one that is well nigh worn to pieces with age,
to show himself a young gallant! what unweigh'd behaviour
-- 243 --
hath this Flemish drunkard pickt, i'th' devil's
name, 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, heav'n forgive me: why, I'll exhibit
(11) notea Bill in the Parliament for the putting down of
fat men: how shall I be reveng'd on him? for reveng'd
I will be, as sure as his guts are made of puddings.
Enter Mrs. 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
shew to the contrary.
Mrs. Page.
'Faith, but you do, in my mind.
Mrs. Ford.
Well, I do then; yet I say, I could shew
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, or so, I could be knighted.
Mrs. Page.
What, thou liest! Sir Alice Ford! these
Knights will hack, and so thou shouldst not alter the
article of thy gentry.
-- 244 --
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 tun of oyl in
his belly, a'shore at Windsor? how shall I be reveng'd
on him? I think, the best way were to entertain him
with hope, 'till the wicked fire of lust have melted
him in his own grease. 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 twin-brother 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; nay,
more; and these are of the second edition: he will
print them out of doubt, for he cares not what he
puts into the press, when he would put us two. I had
rather be a giantess, and lye under mount Pelion. Well,
I will find you twenty lascivious turtles, ere one chaste
man.
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
my self like one that I am not acquainted withal;
for, sure, unless he knew some Strain in me, that I
know not my self, he would never have boarded me in
this fury.
Mrs. Ford.
Boarding, call it you? I'll be sure to keep
him above deck.
Mrs. Page.
So will I; if he come under my hatches,
I'll never to sea again. Let's be reveng'd on him;
let's appoint him a meeting, give him a show of comfort
-- 245 --
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.
Mrs. Ford.
Nay, I will consent to act any villany
against him, that may not sully the chariness of our
honesty: oh, that my husband saw this letter! it would
give eternal food to his jealousie.
Mrs. Page.
Why, look, where he comes, and my
good man too; he's as far from jealousie, as I am from
giving him cause; and that, I hope, is an unmeasurable
distance.
Mrs. Ford.
You are the happier woman.
Mrs. Page.
Let's consult together against this greasie
Knight. Come hither.
[They retire.
Enter Ford with Pistol, Page with Nym.
Ford.
Well, I hope, it be not so.
Pist.
Hope is a curtal-dog in some affairs.
Sir John affects thy wife.
Ford.
Why, Sir, my wife is not young.
Pist.
He wooes both high and low, both rich and poor,
Both young and old, one with another, Ford;
He loves thy gally-mawfry, Ford, perpend.
Ford.
Love my wife?
Pist.
With liver burning hot: prevent, or go thou,
like Sir Acteon, he, with Ring-wood at thy heels—O,
odious is the name.
Ford.
What name, Sir?
Pist.
The horn, I say: farewel.
Take heed, have open eye; for thieves do foot by night.
Take heed ere summer comes, or cuckoo-birds affright.
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 wrong'd me in some humours; I
should have born 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
-- 246 --
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: adieu.
[Exit Nym.
Page.
The humour of it, quoth a'! here's a fellow,
frights humour out of its wits.
Ford.
I will seek out Falstaff.
Page.
I never heard such a drawling, affecting rogue.
Ford.
If I do find it: well.
Page.
(12) noteI will not believe such a Cataian, tho' the
priest o'th' town commended him for a true man.
Ford.
'Twas a good sensible fellow: well.
Mrs. Page and Mrs. Ford come forwards.
Page.
How now, Meg?
Mrs. Page.
Whither go you, George? hark you.
Mrs. Ford.
How now, sweet Frank, why art thou
melancholy?
Ford.
I melancholy! I am not melancholy. Get you
home, go.
Mrs. Ford.
Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy
head. Now, will you go, mistress Page?
-- 247 --
Mrs. Page.
Have with you. You'll come to dinner,
George? Look, who comes yonder; she shall be our
messenger to this paultry Knight.
Enter Mistress Quickly.
Mrs. Ford.
Trust me, I thought on her, she'll fit it.
Mrs. Page.
You are come to see my daughter Anne?
Quic.
Ay, forsooth; and, I pray, how does good
mistress Anne?
Mrs. Page.
Go in with us, and see; we have an hour's
talk with you.
[Ex. Mrs. Page, Mrs. Ford, and Mrs. Quic.
Page.
How now, master Ford?
Ford.
You heard what this knave told me, did you not?
Page.
Yes; and you heard what the other told me?
Ford.
Do you think there is truth in them?
Page.
Hang 'em, slaves; I do not think, the Knight
would offer it; but these, that accuse him in his intent
towards our wives, are a yoak of his discarded men;
very rogues, now they be out of service.
Ford.
Were they his men?
Page.
Marry, were they.
Ford.
I like it never the better for that. Does he
lye at the Garter?
Page.
Ay, marry, does he. If he should intend his
voyage towards my wife, I would turn her loose to
him; and what he gets more of her than sharp words,
let it lye on my head.
Ford.
I do not misdoubt my wife, but I would be
loth to turn them together; a man may be too confident;
I would have nothing lye on my head; I cannot
be thus satisfy'd.
Page.
Look, where my ranting Host of the Garter
comes; there is either liquor in his pate, or mony in
his purse, when he looks so merrily. How now, mine
Host?
-- 248 --
Enter Host and Shallow
Host.
How now, bully Rock? thou'rt a gentleman,
cavalerio-justice, I say.
Shal.
I follow, mine Host, I follow. Good even,
and twenty, good master Page. Master Page, will you
go with us? we have sport in hand.
Host.
Tell him, cavaliero-justice; tell him, bully
Rock.
Shal.
Sir, there is a fray to be fought between Sir
Hugh the Welch priest, and Caius the French doctor.
Ford.
Good mine Host o'th' Garter, a word with
you.
Host.
What say'st thou, bully Rock?
Shal.
Will you go with us to behold it? my merry
Host hath had the measuring of their weapons, and, I
think, hath appointed them contrary places; for, believe
me, I hear, the parson is no jester. Hark, I will
tell you what our sport shall be.
Host.
Hast thou no suit against my Knight, my guest-cavalier?
Ford.
None, I protest; but I'll give you a pottle of
burnt sack to give me recourse to him, (13) note
and tell
him, my name is Brook; only for a jest.
Host.
My hand, bully: thou shalt have egress and
regress; said I well? and thy name shall be Brook. It
is a merry Knight. (14) note
Will you go an-heirs?
-- 249 --
Shal.
Have with you, mine host.
Page.
I have heard, the Frenchman hath good skill
in his rapier.
Shal.
Tut, Sir, I could have told you more; in these
times you stand on distance, your passes, stoccado's,
and I know not what: 'tis the heart, master Page;
'tis here, 'tis here. I have seen the time, with my
long sword, I would have made you four tall fellows
skip like rats.
Host.
Here, boys, here, here: shall we wag?
Pag.
Have with you; I had rather hear them scold
than fight.
[Exeunt Host, Shallow and Page.
Ford.
Tho' Page be a secure fool, (15) noteand stand so
firmly on his wife's frailty7Q0001, yet I cannot put off my opinion
so easily. She was in his company at Page's house;
and what they made there, I know not. Well, I
will look further into't; and I have a disguise to
sound Falstaff: if I find her honest, I lose not my labour;
if she be otherwise, 'tis labour well bestow'd.
[Exit.
Scene 2
SCENE changes to the Garter-Inn.
Enter Falstaff and Pistol.
Fal.
I will not lend thee a penny.
Pist.
Why then the world's mine oyster, which
I with sword will open.—I will retort the Sum in
Equipage.
Fal.
Not a penny. I have been content, Sir, you
-- 250 --
should lay my countenance to pawn; I have grated upon
my good friends for three reprieves for you, and
your couch-fellow, Nim; or else you had look'd
through the grate, like a geminy of baboons. I am
damn'd in hell for swearing to gentlemen, my friends,
you were good soldiers, and tall fellows. And when
mistress Bridget lost the handle of her fan, I took't upon
mine honour, thou hadst it not.
Pist.
Didst thou not share? hadst thou not fifteen
pence?
Fal.
Reason, you rogue, reason: think'st thou, I'll
endanger my soul gratis? At a word, hang no more
about me, I am no gibbet for you: (16) notego, a short
knife, and a throng, to your manor of Pickt-hatch;
go, you'll not bear a letter for me, you rogue! you
stand upon your honour! why, thou unconfinable baseness,
it is as much as I can do to keep the term of my
honour precise. I, I, I my self sometimes, leaving the
fear of heaven on the left hand, and hiding mine honour
in my necessity, am fain to shuffle, to hedge and
to lurch; and yet you rogue will ensconse your rags,
your cat-a-mountain looks, your red-lettice phrases,
and your bold-beating oaths, under the shelter of your
honour! you will not do it, you!
Pist.
I do relent; what wouldst thou more of Man?
Enter Robin.
Rob.
Sir, here's a woman would speak with you.
Fal.
Let her approach.
Enter Mistress Quickly.
Quick.
Give your worship good morrow.
Fal.
Good morrow, good wife.
Quick.
Not so, and't please your worship.
Fal.
Good maid, then.
-- 251 --
Quic.
I'll be sworn, as my mother was, the first
hour I was born.
Fal.
I do believe the swearer: what with me?
Quic.
Shall I vouchsafe your worship a word or two?
Fal.
Two thousand, fair woman, and I'll vouchsafe
thee the hearing.
Quic.
There is one mistress Ford, Sir: I pray, come
a little nearer this ways: I my self dwell with Mr.
Doctor Caius.
Fal.
Well, on: mistress Ford, you say,—
Quic.
Your worship says very true: I pray your
worship, come a little nearer this ways.
Fal.
I warrant thee, no body hears: mine own people,
mine own people.
Quic.
Are they so? heav'n bless them, and make
them his servants.
Fal.
Well: mistress Ford, what of her?
Quic.
Why, Sir, she's a good Creature. Lord, lord,
your worship's a wanton; well, heav'n forgive you,
and all of us, I pray—
Fal.
Mistress Ford, come, Mistress Ford—
Quic.
Marry, this is the short and the long of it;
you have brought her into such a canaries, as 'tis wonderful:
the best Courtier of them all, when the Court
lay at Windsor, could never have brought her to such
a canary. Yet there has been knights, and lords, and
gentlemen, with their coaches; I warrant you, coach
after coach, letter after letter, gift after gift, smelling
so sweetly; all musk; and so rustling, I warrant you,
in silk and gold, and in such alligant terms, and in
such wine and sugar of the best, and the fairest, that
would have won any woman's heart; and, I warrant
you, they could never get an eye-wink of her. I had
my self twenty angels given me this morning; but I
defie all angels, in any such sort as they say, but in
the way of honesty; and I warrant you, they could
never get her so much as sip on a cup with the proudest
of them all: and yet there has been Earls, nay,
which is more, Pensioners; but, I warrant you, all is
one with her.
-- 252 --
Fal.
But what says she to me? be brief, my good
She-Mercury.
Quic.
Marry, she hath receiv'd your letter, for the
which she thanks you a thousand times; and she gives
you to notifie, that her husband will be absence from
his house between ten and eleven.
Fal.
Ten and eleven.
Quic.
Ay, forsooth; and then you may come and see
the picture, she says, that you wot of: master Ford,
her husband, will be from home. Alas! the sweet woman
leads an ill life with him, he's a very jealousie-man;
she leads a very frampold life with him, good
heart.
Fal.
Ten and eleven: woman, commend me to her,
I will not fail her.
Quic.
Why, you say well: But I have another messenger
to your worship; mistress Page has her hearty
commendations to you too; and let me tell you in your
ear, she's as fartuous a civil modest wife, and one (I
tell you) that will not miss you morning nor evening
prayer, as any is in Windsor, whoe'er be the other;
and she bad me tell your worship, that her husband is
seldom from home, but, she hopes, there will come a
time. I never knew a woman so doat upon a man;
surely, I think you have Charms, la; yes, in truth.
Fal.
Not I, I assure thee; setting the attraction of
my good parts aside, I have no other Charms.
Quic.
Blessing on your heart for't.
Fal.
But I pray thee, tell me this; has Ford's wife,
and Page's wife, acquainted each other how they love
me?
Quic.
That were a jest, indeed; they have not so
little grace, I hope; that were a trick, indeed! but
mistress Page would desire you to send her your little
Page, of all loves: her husband has a marvellous infection
to the little Page; and, truly, master Page is an
honest man. Never a wife in Windsor leads a better
life, than she does; do what she will, say what she
will, take all, pay all, go to bed when she list, rise
when she list, all is as she will; and, truly, she deserves
-- 253 --
it; for if there be a kind woman in Windsor, truly, she
is one. You must send her your Page; no remedy.
Fal.
Why, I will.
Quic.
Nay, but do so then; and, look you, he may
come and go between you both, and in any case have
a nay-word, that you may know one another's mind:
and the boy never need to understand any thing; for
'tis not good, that children should know any wickedness:
old folks, you know, have discretion, as they say,
and know the world.
Fal.
Fare thee well; commend me to them both:
there's my purse, I am yet thy debtor. Boy, go along
with this woman. This news distracts me.
[Ex. Quick. and Robin.
Pist.
This punk is one of Cupid's carriers:
Clap on more sails; pursue; up with your fights;
Give fire; she is my prize, or ocean whelm them all!
[Exit Pistol.
Fal.
Say'st thou so, old Jack? go thy ways; I'll
make more of thy old body, than I have done; will they
yet look after thee? Wilt thou, after the expence of
so much mony, be now a gainer? good body, I thank
thee; let them say, 'tis grossly done; so it be fairly
done, no matter.
Enter Bardolph.
Bard.
Sir John, there's one master Brook below would
fain speak with you, and be acquainted with you; and
hath sent your worship a morning's draught of sack.
Fal.
Brook, is his Name?
Bard.
Ay, Sir.
Fal.
Call him in; [Ex. Bardolph.] such Brooks are
welcome to me, that o'erflow with such liquor. Ah!
ah! mistress Ford and mistress Page, have I encompass'd
you? go to, via!
Re-enter Bardolph, with Ford disguis'd.
Ford.
Bless you, Sir.
Fal.
And you, Sir; would you speak with me?
-- 254 --
Ford.
I make bold to press with so little preparation
upon you.
Fal.
You're welcome; what's your will? give us
leave, drawer.
[Ex. Bardolph.
Ford.
Sir, I am a gentleman that have spent much;
my name is Brook.
Fal.
Good master Brook, I desire more acquaintance
of you.
Ford.
Good Sir John, I sue for yours; not to charge
you; for I must let you understand, I think my self in
better plight for a lender than you are, the which hath
something embolden'd me to this unseason'd intrusion;
for they say, if mony go before, all ways do lye open.
Fal.
Money is a good soldier, Sir, and will on.
Ford.
Troth, and I have a bag of mony, here, troubles
me; if you will help me to bear it, Sir John, take
all, or half, for easing me of the carriage.
Fal.
Sir, I know not how I may deserve to be your
porter.
Ford.
I will tell you, Sir, if you will give me the
hearing.
Fal.
Speak, good master Brook, I shall be glad to be
your servant.
Ford.
Sir, I hear, you are a scholar; (I will be brief
with you;) and you have been a man long known to
me, tho' I had never so good means, as desire, to make
my self acquainted with you: I shall discover a thing
to you, wherein I must very much lay open mine own
Imperfections; but good Sir John, as you have one eye
upon my follies, as you hear them unfolded, turn another
into the register of your own, that I may pass
with a reproof the easier; sith you your self know,
how easie it is to be such an offender.
Fal.
Very well: Sir, proceed.
Ford.
There is a gentlewoman in this town, her husband's
name is Ford.
Fal.
Well, Sir.
Ford.
I have long lov'd her; and, I protest to you,
bestow'd much on her; follow'd her with a doating
observance; ingross'd opportunities to meet her; fee'd
-- 255 --
every slight occasion, that could but niggardly give me
sight of her; not only bought many Presents to give
her, but have given largely to many, to know what
she would have given: briefly, I have pursued her, as
love hath pursu'd me, which hath been on the wing
of all occasions. But whatsoever I have merited, either
in my mind, or in my means; meed, I am sure, I have
received none; unless experience be a jewel; That I
have purchas'd at an infinite rate, and That hath taught
me to say this;
“Love like a shadow flies, when substance love pursues;
“Pursuing That that flies, and flying what pursues.
Fal.
Have you receiv'd no promise of satisfaction at
her hands?
Ford.
Never.
Fal.
Have you importun'd her to such a purpose?
Ford.
Never.
Fal.
Of what quality was your love then?
Ford.
Like a fair house, built on another man's
ground; so that I have lost my edifice, by mistaking
the place where I erected it.
Fal.
To what purpose have you unfolded this to me?
Ford.
When I have told you that, I have told you
all. Some say, that tho' she appear honest to me, yet
in other places she enlargeth her mirth so far, that there
is shrewd construction made of her. Now, Sir John,
here is the heart of my purpose: You are a gentleman
of excellent breeding, admirable discourse, of great admittance,
authentick in your place and person, generally
allow'd for your many war-like, court-like, and
learned preparations.
Fal.
O Sir!
Ford.
Believe it, for you know it; there is mony,
spend it, spend it; spend more, spend all I have, only
give me so much of your time in exchange of it, as
to lay an amiable siege to the honesty of this Ford's
wife; use your art of wooing, win her to consent to
you; if any man may, you may as soon as any.
Fal.
Would it apply well to the vehemence of your
affection, that I should win what you would enjoy? methinks,
you prescribe to your self very preposterously.
-- 256 --
Ford.
O, understand my drift; she dwells so securely
on the excellency of her honour, that the folly of
my soul dares not present it self; she is too bright to
be look'd against. Now, could I come to her with any
detection in my hand, my desires had instance and argument
to commend themselves; I could drive her then
from the ward of her purity, her reputation, her marriage-vow,
and a thousand other her defences, which
now are too too strongly embattel'd against me. What
say you to't, Sir John?
Fal.
Master Brook, I will first make bold with your
mony; next, give me your hand; and last, as I am a
gentleman, you shall, if you will, enjoy Ford's wife.
Ford.
O good Sir!
Fal.
Master Brook, I say, you shall.
Ford.
Want no money, Sir John, you shall want
none.
Fal.
Want no mistress Ford, master Brook, you shall
want none; I shall be with her, I may tell you, by her
own appointment. Even as you came in to me, her
assistant, or go-between, parted from me; I say, I shall
be with her between ten and eleven; for at that time
the jealous rascally knave, her husband, will be forth;
come you to me at night, you shall know how I speed.
Ford.
I am blest in your acquaintance: do you know
Ford, Sir?
Fal.
Hang him, poor cuckoldly knave, I know him
not: yet I wrong him, to call him poor; they say, the
jealous wittolly knave hath masses of mony, for the
which his wife seems to me well-favour'd. I will use
her as the key of the cuckoldly-rogue's coffer; and
there's my harvest-home.
Ford.
I would you knew Ford, Sir, that you might
avoid him, if you saw him.
Fal.
Hang him, mechanical-salt-butter rogue; I will
stare him out of his wits; I will awe him with my
cudgel; it shall hang like a meteor o'er the Cuckold's
horns. Master Brook, thou shalt know, I will predominate
over the peasant; and thou shalt lye with his
wife: Come to me soon at night; Ford's a knave, and
-- 257 --
I will aggravate his stile: thou, master Brook, shalt
know him for knave and cuckold: come to me soon at
night.
[Exit.
Ford.
What a damn'd Epicurean rascal is this! my
heart is ready to crack with impatience. Who says,
this is improvident jealousie? my wife hath sent to
him, the hour is fixt, the match is made; would any
man have thought this? see the hell of having a false
woman! my bed shall be abus'd, my coffers ransack'd,
my reputation gnawn at; and I shall not only receive
this villainous wrong, but stand under the adoption of
abominable terms, and by him that does me the wrong.
Terms, names; Amaimon sounds well, Lucifer, well; Barbason,
well; yet they are devils additions, the names of
fiends: but cuckold, wittol, cuckold! the devil himself
hath not such a name. Page is an ass, a secure ass,
he will trust his wife; he will not be jealous: I will
rather trust a Fleming with my butter, parson Hugh the
Welchman with my cheese, an Irish-man with my Aquavitæ
bottle, or a thief to walk my ambling gelding,
than my wife with her self: then she plots, then she
ruminates, then she devises: and what they think in
their hearts they may effect, they will break their hearts
but they will effect. Heav'n be prais'd for my jealousie!
Eleven o'clock the hour; I will prevent this, detect
my wife, be reveng'd on Falstaff, and laugh at Page:
I will about it: better three hours too soon, than a
minute too late. Fie, fie, fie; cuckold, cuckold,
cuckold!
[Exit.
Scene 3
SCENE changes to Windsor-Park.
Enter Caius and Rugby.
Caius.
Jack Rugby!
Rug.
Sir.
Caius.
Vat is de clock, Jack?
Rug.
'Tis past the hour, Sir, that Sir Hugh promis'd
to meet.
Caius.
By gar, he has save his soul, dat he is no
come; he has pray his pible well, dat he is no come:
-- 258 --
by gar, Jack Rugby, he is dead already, if he be come.
Rug.
He is wise, Sir; he knew, your worship would
kill him, if he came.
Caius.
By gar, de herring is not so dead as me vill
make him. Take your rapier, Jack; I vill tell you
how I vill kill him.
Rug.
Alas, Sir, I cannot fence.
Caius.
Villany, take your rapier.
Rug.
Forbear; here's company.
Enter Host, Shallow, Slender and Page.
Host.
'Bless thee, bully-doctor.
Shal.
'Save you, Mr. Doctor Caius.
Page.
Now, good Mr. Doctor.
Slen.
Give you good morrow, Sir.
Caius.
Vat be all you, one, two, tree, four, come for?
Host.
To see thee fight, to see thee foigne, to see
thee traverse, to see thee here, to see thee there, to
see thee pass thy puncto, thy stock, thy reverse, thy
distance, thy montant. Is he dead, my Ethiopian? Is
he dead, my Francisco? ha, bully? what says my Æsculapius?
my Galen? my heart of elder? ha? is he dead,
bully-stale? is he dead?
Caius.
By gar, he is de coward Jack-priest of de
vorld; he is not show his face.
Host.
Thou art a Castalion-king-Urinal: Hector of
Greece, my boy.
Caius.
I pray you bear witness, that me have stay
six or seven, two tree hours for him, and he is no
come.
Shal.
He is the wiser man, Mr. Doctor; he is a
curer of souls, and you a curer of bodies: if you
should fight, you go against the hair of your professions:
Is it not true, master Page?
Page.
Master Shallow, you have your self been a
great fighter, tho' now a man of peace.
Shall.
Body-kins, Mr. Page, tho' I now be old, and
of peace, if I see a sword out, my finger itches to
make one; tho' we are justices, and doctors, and
-- 259 --
church-men, Mr. Page, we have some salt of our youth
in us; we are the sons of women, Mr. Page.
Page.
'Tis true, Mr. Shallow.
Shal.
It will be found so, Mr. Page. Mr. Doctor
Caius, I am come to fetch you home; I am sworn of
the peace; you have shew'd your self a wise physician,
and Sir Hugh hath shown himself a wise and patient
church-man: you must go with me, Mr. Doctor.
Host.
Pardon, guest-justice; a word, monsieur mock-water.
Caius.
Mock-vater? vat is dat?
Host.
Mock-water, in our English tongue, is valour,
bully.
Caius.
By gar, then I have as much mock-vater as
de Englishman, scurvy-jack-dog-priest; by gar, me vill
cut his ears.
Host.
He will clapper-claw thee tightly, bully.
Caius.
Clapper-de-claw? vat is dat?
Host.
That is, he will make thee amends.
Caius.
By gar, me do look, he shall clapper-de-claw
me; for by gar, me vill have it.
Host.
And I will provoke him to't, or let him wag.
Caius.
Me tank you for dat.
Host.
And moreover, bully: but first, Mr. Guest,
and Mr. Page, and eek Cavaliero Slender, go you
through the town to Frogmore.
Page.
Sir Hugh is there, is he?
Host.
He is there; see, what humour he is in; and
I will bring the Doctor about the fields: will it do
well?
Shal.
We will do it.
All.
Adieu, good Mr. Doctor.
[Ex. Page, Shal. and Slen.
Caius.
By gar, me vill kill de priest; for he speak
for a jack-an-ape to Anne Page.
Host.
Let him die; but, first, sheath thy impatience;
throw cold water on thy choler; go about the fields
with me through Frogmore; I will bring thee where
mistress Anne Page is, at a farm-house a feasting;
-- 260 --
and thou shalt woo her.(17) note Try'd Game, said I
well?
Caius.
By gar, me tank you vor dat: by gar, I love
you; and I shall procure 'a you de good guest; de
Earl, de Knight, de Lords, de Gentlemen, my patients.
Host.
For the which I will be thy adversary toward
Anne Page: said I well?
Caius.
By gar, 'tis good; vell said.
Host.
Let us wag then.
Caius.
Come at my heels, Jack Rugby.
[Exeunt.
Lewis Theobald [1733], The works of Shakespeare: in seven volumes. Collated with the Oldest Copies, and Corrected; With notes, Explanatory and Critical; By Mr. Theobald (Printed for A. Bettesworth and C. Hitch [and] J. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S11201].
