Robin.
Mrs. Page.
Nay, keep your way, little Gallant; you were
wont to be a Follower, but now you are a Leader. Whether
had you rather lead mine Eyes, or eye your Master's
Heels?
Rob.
I had rather, Forsooth, go before you like a Man,
than follow him like a Dwarf.
Mrs. Page.
O you are a flattering Boy; now I see you'll
be a Courtier.
Enter Ford.
Ford.
Well met, Mistress Page; whether go you?
Mrs. Page.
Truly Sir, to see your Wife; is she at home?
Ford.
Ay, and as idle as she may hang together for want
of Company; I think if your Husbands were dead, you two
would marry.
Mrs. Page.
Be sure of that, two other Husbands.
Ford.
Where had you this pretty Weather-cock?
Mrs. Page.
I cannot tell what the dickens his Name is
my Husband had him of: What do you call your Knight's
Name, Sirrah?
Rob.
Sir John Falstaff.
Mrs. Page.
He, he; I can never hit on his Name; there
is such a League between my good Man and he. Is your
Wife at home, indeed?
Ford.
Indeed she is.
Mrs. Page.
By your leave, Sir; I am sick 'till I see her.
[Exeunt Mrs. Page and Robin.
Ford.
Has Page any Brains? hath he any Eyes? hath he
any thinking? sure they sleep; he hath no use of them.
Why, this Boy will carry a Letter twenty Mile, as easie as
a Cannon will shoot point-blank twelve-score; he pieces
-- 158 --
out his Wife's Inclination, he gives her Folly Motion and
Advantage, and now she's going to my Wife, and Falstaff's
Boy with her. A Man may hear this Shower sing in the
Wind; and Falstaff's Boy with her! Good Plots; they are
laid, and our revolted Wives share Damnation together.
Well, I will take him, then torture my Wife, pluck the
borrowed Vail of Modesty from the so seeming Mistress
Page, divulge Page himself for a secure and wilful Acteon,
and to these violent Proceedings all my Neighbours shall
cry aim. The Clock gives me my Qu, and my Assurance
bids me search; there I shall find Falstaff: I shall be rather
praised for this than mocked; for it is as positive as the
Earth is firm, that Falstaff is there: I will go.
Enter Page, Shallow, Slender, Host, Evans and Caius.
Shal. Page, &c.
Well met, Mr. Ford.
Ford.
Trust me, a good Knot: I have good Cheer at
home, and I pray you all go with me.
Shal.
I must excuse my self, Mr. Ford.
Slen.
And so must I, Sir;
We have appointed to dine with Mistress Anne,
And I would not break with her for more Mony
Than I'll speak of.
Shal.
We have linger'd about a Match between Anne
Page and my Cousin Slender, and this Day we shall have
our Answer.
Slen.
I hope I have your good Will, Father Page.
Page.
You have, Mr. Slender, I stand wholly for you;
but my Wife, Master Doctor, is for you altogether.
Caius.
Ay, be gar, and de Maid is love-a-me: My Nursh-a-Quickly
tell me so mush.
Host.
What say you to young Mr. Fenton? he capers,
he dances, he has Eyes of Youth, he writes Verses, he
speaks Holy-Day, he smells April and May, he will carry't,
he will carry't, 'tis in his Buttons, he will carry't.
Page.
Not by my Consent, I promise you: The Gentleman
is of no having, he kept Company with the wild Prince,
and Poinz; he is of too high a Region, he knows too much;
no, he shall not knit a Knot in his Fortunes, with the Finger
of my Substance. If he take her, let him take her simply;
the Wealth I have waits on my Consent, and my Consent
goes not that way.
-- 159 --
Ford.
I beseech you heartily, some of you go home with
me to Dinner; besides your Cheer you shall have Sport; I
will shew you a Monster. Mr. Doctor you shall go, so
shall you Mr. Page, and you Sir Hugh.
Shal.
Well, fare you well:
We shall have the freer Wooing at Mr. Page's.
Caius.
Go home, John Rugby, I come anon.
Host.
Farewel, my Hearts; I will to my honest Knight,
Falstaff, and drink Canary with him.
Ford.
I think I shall drink in Pipe-Wine first with him:
I'll make him dance. Will you go, Gentles?
All.
Have with you to see this Monster.
[Exeunt.
Charles Gildon [1709–1710], The works of Mr. William Shakespear; in six [seven] volumes. Adorn'd with Cuts. Revis'd and Corrected, with an Account of the Life and Writings of the Author. By N. Rowe ([Vol. 7] Printed for E. Curll... and E. Sanger [etc.], London) [word count] [S11401].
