Caius.
Mrs. Page.
Mr. Doctor, my daughter is in green;
when you see your time, take her by the hand, away
with her to the Deanary, and dispatch it quickly; go
before into the Park; we two must go together.
Caius.
I know vat I have to do; adieu.
[Exit.
Mrs. Page.
Fare you well, Sir. My husband will
not rejoice so much at the abuse of Falstaff, as he will
chafe at the Doctor's marrying my daughter; but 'tis
no matter; better a little chiding, than a great deal of
heart-break.
Mrs. Ford.
Where is Nan now, and her troop of
fairies, (27) noteand the Welch devil Evans?
Mrs. Page.
They are all couch'd in a pit hard by
Herne's oak, with obscur'd lights; which, at the very
instant of Falstaff's and our Meeting, they will at once
display to the night.
Mrs. Ford.
That cannot chuse but amaze him.
Mrs. Page.
If he be not amaz'd, he will be mock'd;
if he be amaz'd, he will every way be mock'd.
Mrs. Ford.
We'll betray him finely.
-- 300 --
Mrs. Page.
Against such lewdsters, and their lechery,
Those, that betray them, do no treachery.
Mrs. Ford.
The hour draws on; to the oak, to the
oak.
[Exeunt.
Enter Evans and Fairies.
Eva.
Trib, trib, fairies; come, and remember your
parts: be pold, I pray you; follow me into the pit;
and when I give the watch-'ords, do as I pid you:
come, come; trib, trib.
[Exeunt.
Enter Falstaff, with a Buck's head on.
Fal.
The Windsor bell hath struck twelve, the minute
draws on; now the hot-blooded Gods assist me!
Remember, Jove, thou wast a bull for thy Europa; love
set on thy horns. Oh powerful love! that, in some
respects, makes a beast a man; in some other, a man
a beast: You were also, Jupiter, a swan, for the love
of Leda: oh, omnipotent love! how near the God
drew to the complexion of a goose? A fault done
first in the form of a beast,—O Jove, a beastly fault;
and then another fault in the semblance of a fowl:—
think on't, Jove, a foul fault. When Gods have hot
backs, what shall poor men do? for me, I am here a
Windsor stag, and the fattest, I think, i'th' forest. Send
me a cool rut-time, Jove, or who can blame me to
piss my tallow? who comes here? my Doe?
Enter Mistress Ford and Mistress Page.
Mrs. Ford.
Sir John? art thou there, my deer? my
male-deer?
Fal.
My doe with the black scut? let the sky rain
potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of Green-Sleeves;
hail kissing-comfits, and snow eringoes; let there
come a tempest of provocation, I will shelter me
here.
Mrs. Ford.
Mistress Page is come with me, sweet
heart.
-- 301 --
Fal.
(28) noteDivide me like a bribe-buck, each a haunch;
I will keep my sides to my self, my shoulders for the fellow
of this walk, and my horns I bequeath your husbands.
Am I a woodman, ha? Speak I like Herne
the hunter? why, now is Cupid a child of conscience,
he makes restitution. As I am a true spirit, welcome!
[Noise within.
Mrs. Page.
Alas! what noise?
Mrs. Ford.
Heav'n forgive our sins!
Fal.
What should this be?
Mrs. Ford. Mrs. Page.
Away, away.
[The women run out.
Fal.
I think, the devil will not have me damn'd, lest
the oil that is in me should set hell on fire; he never
would else cross me thus.
Enter Sir Hugh like a Satyr; Quickly, and others, drest
like Fairies, with Tapers.
Quic.
Fairies, black, gray, green, and white,
You moon-shine revellers, and shades of night,
You Ouphen-heirs of fixed destiny,(29) note
Attend your office, and your quality.
Crier hobgoblin, make the fairy o-yes.
Eva.
Elves, list your names; silence, you airy toys.
Cricket, to Windsor chimneys shalt thou leap:
Where fires thou find'st unrak'd, and hearths unswept,
-- 302 --
There pinch the maids as blew as bilbery.
Our radiant Queen hates sluts and sluttery.
Fal.
They're fairies; he, that speaks to them, shall die.
I'll wink and couch; no man their works must eye.
[Lyes down upon his Face.
Eva.
Where's Pede? go you, and where you find a maid,
That, ere she sleep, hath thrice her prayers said,
Raise up the organs of her fantasie;
Sleep she as sound as careless infancy;
But those, that sleep, and think not on their sins,
Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides and shins.
Quic.
About, about;
Search Windsor castle, elves, within and out.
Strew good luck, ouphes, on every sacred room,
That it may stand 'till the perpetual Doom,
In state as wholsom, as in state 'tis fit;
Worthy the owner, as the owner it(30) note
.
The several chairs of Order look you scour,
With juice of balm and ev'ry precious flow'r;
Each fair Instalment-Coat and sev'ral Crest,
With loyal blazon evermore be blest!
And nightly-meadow-fairies, look, you sing,
Like to the Garter-compass, in a ring:
Th' expressure that it bears, green let it be,
More fertile-fresh than all the field to see;
And, Hony Soit Qui Mal y Pense write,
In emrold-tuffs, flow'rs purple, blue and white,
Like saphire, pearl, and rich embroidery,
Buckled below fair Knight-hood's bending knee;
Fairies use flow'rs for their charactery.
Away, disperse; but, 'till 'tis one o'clock;
Our dance of custom round about the Oak
-- 303 --
Of Herne, the hunter, let us not forget.
Eva.
Pray you, lock hand in hand, your selves in order set:
And twenty glow-worms shall our lanthorns be,
To guide our measure round about the tree.
But stay, I smell a man of middle earth.
Fal.
Heav'ns defend me from that Welch fairy, lest
he transform me to a piece of cheese!
Eva.
Vild worm, thou wast o'er-look'd ev'n in thy birth.
Quic.
With tryal-fire touch me his finger-end;
If he be chaste, the flame will back descend,
And turn him to no pain; but if he start,
It is the flesh of a corrupted heart.
Eva.
A tryal, come.—
[They burn him with their tapers, and pinch him.
Come, will this wood take fire?
Fal.
Oh, oh, oh!
Quic.
Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire;
About him, fairies, sing a scornful rhime:
And as you trip, still pinch him to your time.
Eva.
(31) noteIt is right, indeed, he is full of leacheries
and iniquity.
The SONG.
Fie on sinful phantasie:
Fie on lust and luxury:
Lust is but a bloody fire,
Kindled with unchaste desire,
Fed in heart whose flames aspire,
As thoughts do blow them higher and higher.
Pinch him, fairies, mutually;
Pinch him for his villany:
Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about,
'Till candles, and star-light, and moon-shine be out.
(32) noteDuring this Song, they pinch him. Doctor Caius
comes one way,and steals away a Boy in green; Slender,
-- 304 --
another way, and he takes away a Boy in white; and
Fenton comes, and steals away Mrs. Anne Page. A
Noise of hunting is made within. All the Fairies run
away. Falstaff pulls off his Buck's head, and rises.
Enter Page, Ford, &c. They lay hold on him.
Page.
Nay, do not fly; I think, We've watcht you now;
Will none but Herne the hunter serve your turn?
Mrs. Page.
I pray you, come; hold up the jest no higher.
Now, good Sir John, how like you Windsor wives?
See you these, husbands? do not these fair Yoaks(33) note
Become the Forest better than the Town?
Ford.
Now, Sir, who's a cuckold now? master
Brook, Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldly knave, here are
his horns, master Brook; and master Brook, he hath enjoy'd
nothing of Ford's but his buck-basket, his cudgel,
and twenty pounds of mony, which must be paid to
master Brook; his horses are arrested for it, master
Brook.
Mrs. Ford.
Sir John, we have had ill luck; we could
never meet. I will never take you for my love again,
but I will always count you my deer.
Fal.
I do begin to perceive, that I am made an ass.
Ford.
Ay, and an ox too: both the proofs are extant.
Fal.
And these are not fairies? I was three or four
times in the thought, they were not fairies; and yet
the guiltiness of my mind, the sudden surprize of my
-- 305 --
powers, drove the grossness of the foppery into a receiv'd
belief, in despight of the teeth of all rhime and
reason, that they were fairies. See now, how wit may
be made a jack-a-lent, when 'tis upon ill imployment.
Eva.
Sir John Falstaff, serve Got, and leave your desires,
and fairies will not pinse you.
Ford.
Well said, fairy Hugh.
Eva.
And leave you your jealouzies too, I pray you.
Ford.
I will never mistrust my wife again, 'till thou
art able to woo her in good English.
Fal.
Have I laid my brain in the sun and dry'd it,
that it wants matter to prevent so gross o'er-reaching
as this? am I ridden with a Welch goat too? shall I
have a coxcomb of frize? 'tis time, I were choak'd
with a piece of toasted cheese.
Eva.
Seese is not good to give putter; your pelly is
all putter.
Fal.
Seese and putter? have I liv'd to stand in the
taunt of one, that makes fritters of English? this is enough
to be the decay of lust and late-walking, through
the Realm.
Mrs. Page.
Why, Sir John, do you think, though
we would have thrust virtue out of our hearts by the
head and shoulders, and have given our selves without
scruple to hell, that ever the devil could have made
you our delight?
Ford.
What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax?(34) note
Mrs. Page.
A puft man?
Page.
Old, cold, wither'd, and of intolerable entrails?
Ford.
And one that is as slanderous as Satan?
Page.
And as poor as Job?
-- 306 --
Ford.
And as wicked as his wife?
Eva.
And given to fornications, and to taverns,
and sacks, and wines, and metheglins, and to drinkings,
and swearings, and starings, pribbles and prabbles?
Fal.
Well, I am your theme; you have the start of
me; I am dejected; I am not able to answer the Welch
flannel; ignorance it self is a plummet o'er me; use
me as you will.
Ford.
Marry, Sir, we'll bring you to Windsor to one
Mr. Brook, that you have cozen'd of mony, to whom
you should have been a pander: over and above that
you have suffer'd, I think, to repay that mony will be
a biting affliction.
(35) noteMrs. Ford.
Nay, husband, let That go to make amends:
Forgive that Summ, and so we'll all be Friends.
Ford.
Well, here's my hand; all's forgiven at last.
Page.
Yet be cheerful, Knight; thou shalt eat a posset
to night at my house, where I will desire thee to
laugh at my wife, that now laughs at thee. Tell her,
Mr. Slender hath marry'd her daughter.
Mrs. Page.
Doctors doubt that; if Anne Page be my
daughter, she is, by this, Doctor Caius's wife.
[Aside.
Enter Slender.
Slen.
What hoe! hoe! father Page?
Page.
Son, how now? how now, son, have you dispatch'd?
Slen.
Dispatch'd? I'll make the best in Gloucestershire
know on't; would I were hang'd la, else.
Page.
Of what, son?
-- 307 --
Slen.
I came yonder at Eaton to marry mistress Anne
Page, and she's a great lubberly boy. If it had not
been i'th' church, I would have swing'd him, or he
should have swing'd me. If I did not think it had been
Anne Page, would I might never stir, and 'tis a postmaster's-boy.
Page.
Upon my life, then you took the wrong.
Slen.
What need you tell me that? I think so, when
I took a boy for a girl: if I had been marry'd to him,
for all he was in woman's apparel, I would not have
had him.
Page.
Why, this is your own folly. Did not I tell
you, how you should know my daughter by her garments?
Slen.
I went to her in white and cry'd mum, and she
cry'd budget, as Anne and I had appointed, and yet it
was not Anne, but a post-master's boy.
Eva.
Jeshu! Master Slender, cannot you see but marry
boys?
Page.
O, I am vext at Heart. What shall I do?
Mrs. Page.
Good George, be not angry; I knew of
your purpose, turn'd my daughter into green, and,
indeed, she is now with the Doctor at the Deanery, and
there married.
Enter Caius.
Caius.
Ver is mistress Page? by gar, I am cozen'd;
I ha' marry'd one garsoon, a boy; one peasant, by gar.
A boy; it is not Anne Page; by gar, I am cozen'd.
Mrs. Page.
Why? did you not take her in green?
Caius.
Ay, be gar, and 'tis a boy; be gar, I'll raise
all Windsor.
Ford.
This is strange! who hath got the right Anne?
Page.
My heart misgives me; here comes Mr. Fenton.
Enter Fenton, and Anne Page.
How now, Mr. Fenton?
Anne.
Pardon, good father; good my mother, pardon.
-- 308 --
Page.
Now, mistress, how chance you went not with
Mr. Slender?
Mrs. Page.
Why went you not with Mr. Doctor,
maid?
Fent.
You do amaze her: Hear the truth of it.
You would have marry'd her most shamefully,
Where there was no proportion held in love:
The truth is, she and I, long since contracted,
Are now so sure, that nothing can dissolve us.
Th' offence is holy, that she hath committed;
And this deceit loses the name of craft,
Of disobedience, or unduteous title;
Since therein she doth evitate and shun
A thousand irreligious cursed hours,
Which forced marriage would have brought upon her.
Ford.
Stand not amaz'd, here is no remedy.
In love, the heav'ns themselves do guide the state;
Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate.
Fal.
I am glad, tho' you have ta'en a special Stand
to strike at me, that your arrow hath glanc'd.
Page.
Well, what remedy? Fenton, heav'n give thee joy;
What cannot be eschew'd, must be embrac'd.
Eva.
I will also dance and eat plums at your Wedding.
Fal.
When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer are
chac'd.
Mrs. Page.
Well, I will muse no further. Mr. Fenton,
Heav'n give you many, many merry days.
Good husband, let us every one go home,
And laugh this sport o'er by a country fire,
Sir John and all.
Ford.
Let it be so:—Sir John,
To master Brook you yet shall hold your word;
For he, to night, shall lye with mistress Ford.
[Exe. Omnes.
