I pray you now, good master Slender's serving-man,
and friend Simple by your name, which
way have you looked for master Caius, that calls
himself Doctor of Physick?
-- 295 --
Simp.
Marry, sir, 3notethe 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.
Sim.
I will, sir.
Eva.
'Pless my soul! how full of cholers I am,
and trempling of mind!—I shall be glad, if he have
deceiv'd 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!
[unresolved image link]By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals;
There will we make our peds of roses,
And a thousand vragrant posies.
By shallow—
-- 296 --
'Mercy on me! I have a great dispositions to cry.
Melodius birds sing madrigals;—
When as I sat in Babylon—
And a thousand vragrant posies.
By shallow—
-- 297 --
Simp.
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?
Simp.
No weapons, sir: There comes my master,
master Shallow, and another gentleman from Frogmore,
over the stile, this way.
-- 298 --
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 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.
'Pless you from his mercy sake, all of you!
Shal.
What! the sword and the word! do you
study them both, master parson?
-- 299 --
Page.
And youthful still, in your doublet and hose,
this raw rheumatick day?
Eva.
There is reasons and causes for it.
Page.
We are come to you, to do a good office,
master parson.
Eva.
Fery well: What is it?
Page.
Yonder is a most reverend gentleman, who
belike, having receiv'd wrong by some person, is at
most odds with his own gravity and patience, that
ever you saw.
Shal.
I have liv'd fourscore years, and upward; 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; master doctor Caius,
the renowned French physician.
Eva.
Got's will, and his passion o' my heart! I
had as lief you would tell me of a mess of porridge.
Page.
Why?
Eva.
He has no more knowledge in Hibocrates
and Galen,—and he is a knave besides; a cowardly
knave, as you would desires 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 master parson, keep in your
weapon.
Shal.
So do you, good master doctor.
Host.
Disarm them, and let them question; let
them keep their limbs whole, and hack our English.
Caius.
I pray you, let-a me speak a word vit your
ear: Verefore vill you not meet-a me?
Eva.
Pray you, use your patience: In good time.
-- 300 --
Caius.
By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog,
John ape.
Eva.
Pray you, let us not be laughing-stogs to
other men's humours; I desire you in friendship, and
will one way or other make you amends:—I will knog
your urinals about your knave's cogs-combs, for
missing your meetings and appointments.
Caius.
Diable!—Jack Rugby,—mine Host de Jarterre,
have I not stay for him, to kill him? have I
not, at de place I did appoint?
Eva.
As I am a christians soul, now, look you,
this is the place appointed; I'll be judgment by mine
host of the Garter.
Host.
Peace, I say, Gallia and Gaul, French and
Welch5note
, soul-curer and body-curer.
Caius.
Ay, dat is very good! excellent!
Host.
Peace, I say; hear mine host of the Garter.
Am I politick? 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 pro-verbs and the
no-verbs.—Give me thy hand, terrestial; so:—Give
me thy hand, celestial; so.—Boys of art, I have deceiv'd
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.
Shal.
Trust me, a mad host.—Follow, gentlemen,
follow.
Slen.
O, sweet Anne Page!
[Exeunt Shal. Slen Page, and Host.
-- 301 --
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 vloutingstog.
—I desire you, that we may be friends; and let
us knog our prains together, to be revenge on this
same 6note
scald, scurvy, cogging companion, the host
of the Garter.
Caius.
By gar, vit all my heart; he promise to
bring me vere is Anne Page: by gar, he deceive me
too.
