Fent.
I see I cannot get thy Father's Love;
Therefore no more turn me to him, sweet Nan.

Anne.
Alas! how then?

Fent.
Why, thou must be thy self.
He doth object I am too great of Birth,
And that my State being gall'd with my Expence,
I seek to heal it only by his Wealth.
Besides these, other Bars he lays before me,
My Riots past, my wild Societies;
And tells me, 'tis a thing impossible
I should love thee, but as a Property.

Anne.
May be he tells you true.

Fent.
No, Heav'n so speed me in my time to come,
Albeit I will confess, thy Father's Wealth
Was the first Motive that I woo'd thee, Anne:
Yet wooing thee, I found thee of more value
Than Stamps in Gold, or Sums in sealed Bags:
And 'tis the very Riches of thy self
That now I aim at.

Anne.
Gentle Mr. Fenton,
Yet seek my Father's Love, still seek it, Sir:
If Opportunity and humblest Suit
Cannot attain it, why then hark you hither. Enter Shallow, Slender and Mistriss Quickly.

Shal.
Break their Talk, Mistress Quickly;
My Kinsman shall speak for himself.

Slen.

I'll make a Shaft or a Bolt on't: 'D'slid 'tis but venturing.

Shal.

Be not dismaid.

Slen.
No, she shall not dismay me:
I care not for that, but I am affeard.

Quic.
Hark ye; Mr. Slender would speak a word with you.

Anne.
I come to him. This is my Father's Choice.
O, what a world of vile ill-favour'd Faults
Look handsome in three hundred Pounds a Year?

Quic.
And how does good Master Fenton?
Pray you a word with you.

Shal.
She's coming; to her Coz.
O Boy, thou hadst a Father!

Slen.

I had a Father, Mrs. Anne; my Uncle can tell you good Jests of him. Pray you, Uncle, tell Mrs. Anne the Jest, how my Father stole two Geese out of a Pen, good Uncle.

Shal.

Mistress Anne, my Cousin loves you.

Slen.

Ay, that I do, as well as I love any Woman in Glocester shire.

Shal.

He will maintain you like a Gentlewoman.

Slen.

Ay, that I will; come cut and long-tail, under the degree of a Squire.

Shal.

He will make you a hundred and fifty Pounds Jointure.

Anne.

Good Master Shallow, let him woo for himself.

Shal.
Marry, I thank you for it; I thank you for that.
Good Comfort; she calls you, Coz: I'll leave you.

Anne.

Now Master Slender.

Slen.

Now good Mistress Anne.

Anne.

What is your Will?

Slen.

My Will? Od's-heart-lings, that's a pretty Jest indeed, I ne'er made my Will yet, I thank Heav'n I am not such a sickly Creature, I give Heav'n Praise.

Anne.

I mean, Mr. Slender, what would you with me?

Slen.

Truly for mine own part, I would little or nothing with you; your Father and my Uncle have made Motions; if it be my luck, so; if not, happy Man be his dole; they can tell you how things go better than I can; you may ask your Father; here he comes.