SCENE V.
The Garter inn.
Enter Falstaff and Bardolph.
Fal.
Bardolph, I say.—
Bard.
Here, sir.
Fal.
Go fetch me a quart of sack; put a toast in't.
[Ex. Bard.] Have I liv'd to be carried in a basket, like
a barrow of butcher's offal; and to be thrown into the
Thames? Well; if I be serv'd such another trick, I'll
have my brains ta'en out, and butter'd, and give them
to a dog for a new year's gift. The rogues slighted
me into the river with as little remorse 1 note
as they would
have drown'd a bitch's blind puppies, fifteen i' the
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litter: and you may know by my size, that I have a
kind of alacrity in sinking; if the bottom were as
deep as hell, I should down. I had been drown'd,
but that the shore was shelvy and shallow; a death
that I abhor; for the water swells a man; and what
a thing should I have been, when I had been swell'd!
I should have been a mountain of mummy.
Re-enter Bardolph, with the wine.
Now, is the sack brew'd?
Bard.
Ay, sir: there's a woman below would speak
with you.
Fal.
Come, let me pour in some sack to the Thames
water; for my belly's as cold, as if I had swallow'd
snow-balls for pills to cool the reins. Call her in.
Bard.
Come in, woman.
Enter Mrs. Quickly.
Quic.
By your leave;—I cry you mercy:—Give
your worship good morrow.
Fal.
Take away these chalices: Go brew me a pottle
of sack finely.
Bard.
With eggs, sir?
Fal.
Simple of itself; I'll no pullet-sperm in my
brewage.—How now?
Quic.
Marry, sir, I come to your worship from
mistress Ford.
Fal.
Mistress Ford! I have had ford enough: I
was thrown into the ford; I have my belly full of
ford.
Quic.
Alas the day! good heart, that was not her
fault: she does so take on with her men; they mistook
their erection.
Fal.
So did I mine, to build upon a foolish woman's
promise.
Quic.
Well, she laments, sir, for it, that it would
yern your heart to see it. Her husband goes this morning
a birding; she desires you once more to come to
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her between eight and nine: I must carry her word
quickly: she'll make you amends, I warrant you.
Fal.
Well, I will visit her: Tell her so; and bid
her think, what a man is: let her consider his frailty,
and then judge of my merit.
Quic.
I will tell her.
Fal.
Do so. Between nine and ten, say'st thou?
Quic.
Eight and nine, sir.
Fal.
Well, be gone: I will not miss her.
Quic.
Peace be with you, sir!
[Exit.
Fal.
I marvel, I hear not of master Brook; he sent
me word to stay within: I like his money well. Oh,
here he comes.
Enter Ford.
Ford.
Bless you, sir!
Fal.
Now, master Brook? you come to know what
hath pass'd between me and Ford's wife?
Ford.
That, indeed, sir John, is my business.
Fal.
Master Brook, I will not lie to you; I was at
her house the hour she appointed me.
Ford.
And you sped, sir?
Fal.
Very ill-favour'dly, master Brook.
Ford.
How, sir? Did she change her determination?
Fal.
No, master Brook: but the peaking cornuto
her husband, master Brook, dwelling in a continual
'larum of jealousy, comes me in the instant of our
encounter, after we had embrac'd, kiss'd, protested,
and, as it were, spoke the prologue of our comedy;
and at his heels a rabble of his companions, thither
provok'd and instigated by his distemper, and forsooth,
to search his house for his wife's love.
Ford.
What, while you were there?
Fal.
While I was there.
Ford.
And did he search for you, and could not
find you?
Fal.
You shall hear. As good luck would have it,
comes in one mistress Page; gives intelligence of
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Ford's approach; and, by her invention, and Ford's
wife's distraction, they convey'd me into a buck-basket.
Ford.
A buck-basket!
Fal.
Yea, a buck-basket: ramm'd me in with foul
shirts and smocks, socks, foul stockings, and greasy
napkins; that, master Brook, there was the rankest
compound of villanous smell, that ever offended
nostril.
Ford.
And how long lay you there?
Fal.
Nay, you shall hear, master Brook, what I have
suffer'd to bring this woman to evil for your good.
Being thus cramm'd in the basket, a couple of Ford's
knaves, his hinds, were call'd forth by their mistress,
to carry me in the name of foul cloaths to Datchet-lane:
they took me on their shoulders; met the jealous
knave their master in the door; who ask'd them
once or twice, what they had in their basket: I quak'd
for fear, least the lunatic knave would have search'd
it; but fate, ordaining he should be a cuckold, held
his hand. Well; on went he for a search, and away
went I for foul cloaths. But mark the sequel, master
Brook: I suffer'd the pangs of three 2 noteseveral deaths:
first, an intolerable fright, to be detected with3 note
a jealous
rotten bell-weather: next, to be compass'd, like
a good 4 note
bilbo, in the circumference of a peck, hilt
to point, heel to head: and then, to be stopp'd in,
like a strong distillation, with stinking cloaths that
fretted in their own grease: think of that,—a man
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of my 5 notekidney—think of that; that am as subject to
heat, as butter; a man of continual dissolution and
thaw; it was a miracle, to 'scape suffocation. And in
the height of this bath, when I was more than half
stew'd in grease, like a Dutch dish, to be thrown into
the Thames, and cool'd, glowing hot, in that surge,
like a horse-shoe; think of that—hissing hot—think
of that, master Brook.
Ford.
In good sadness, sir, I am sorry that for my
sake you have suffer'd all this. My suit is then desperate;
you'll undertake her no more?
Fal.
Master Brook, I will be thrown into Ætna, as
I have been into Thames, ere I will leave her thus.
Her husband is this morning gone a birding: I have
receiv'd from her another embassy of meeting; 'twixt
eight and nine is the hour, master Brook.
Ford.
'Tis past eight already, sir.
Fal.
Is it? I will then address me6 note
to my appointment.
Come to me at your convenient leisure, and
you shall know how I speed; and the conclusion shall
be crown'd with your enjoying her: Adieu. You shall
have her, master Brook; master Brook, you shall
cuckold Ford.
[Exit.
Ford.
Hum! ha! is this a vision? is this a dream?
do I sleep? master Ford, awake; awake, master Ford;
there's a hole made in your best coat, master Ford.
This 'tis to be married! this 'tis to have linen, and
buck-baskets!—Well, I will proclaim myself what I
am: I will now take the lecher; he is at my house:
he cannot 'scape me; 'tis impossible he should; he
cannot creep into a half-penny purse, nor into a pepper-box:
but, lest the devil that guides him should
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aid him, I will search impossible places. Though
what I am I cannot avoid, yet to be what I would
not, shall not make me tame: if I have horns to
make one mad, let the proverb go with me, 7 noteI'll be
horn-mad.
[Exit.
8 note
ACT IV.
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
