Simple.
Evans.
I Pray you now, good master Slender's servingman,
and friend Simple by your name, which way have
you look'd for master Caius, that calls himself
Doctor of Physick?
Simp.
Marry, Sir, the 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.
Simp.
I will, Sir.
Eva.
'Pless my soul, how full of chollars I am, and
trempling of mind! I shall be glad, if he have deceiv'd
me; how melanchollies I am! I will knog his
urinals about his knave's costard, when I have good
opportunities for the orke: 'Pless my soul!
[Sings, being afraid.
-- 294 --
1 note
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
There will we make our peds of roses;
And a thousand vragrant posies.
By shallow—'Mercy on me! I have a great dispositions
to cry. Melodious birds sing madrigalls—When
as I sat in Pabilon;—and a thousand vragrant posies
.
—By shallow, &c.
-- 295 --
Simp.
Yonder he is coming, this way, Sir Hugh.
Eva.
He's welcome. By shallow rivers, to whose
falls—
Heav'n prosper the right! what weapons is he?
Simp.
No weapons, Sir; there comes my master.
Mr. Shallow, and another gentleman from Frogmore,
over the stile, this way.
Eva.
Pray you, give me my gown, or else keep it
in your arms.
-- 296 --
SCENE II.
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, Mr. Parson?
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,
Mr. Parson.
Eva.
Ferry 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; Mr. Doctor Caius,
the renowned French physician.
Eva.
Got's will, and his passion of my heart! I
had as lief you should 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 desire to be acquainted withal.
Page.
I warrant you, he's the man should fight with
him.
Slen.
O, sweet Anne Page!
-- 297 --
SCENE III.
Enter Host, Caius, and Rugby.
Shal.
It appears so, by his weapons: keep them asunder:
here comes Doctor Caius.
Page.
Nay, good Mr. Parson, keep in your weapon.
Shal.
So do you, good Mr. 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 with your
ear: wherefore vill you not meet-a me?
Eva.
Pray you, use your patience in good time.
Caius.
By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog,
John ape.
Eva.
Pray you, let us not be laughing-stocks to
other mens humours: I desire you in friendship, and
will one way or other make you amends; I will knog
your urinal about your knave's cogs-comb 2 notefor missing
your meetings and appointments.
Caius.
Diable! Jack Rugby, mine Host de Jartere,
have I not stay for him, to kill him? have I not, at
de place I did appoint?
Eva.
As I am a christian's 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
Welch, 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 proverbs and
the no verbs. Give me thy hand, terrestrial; so:
-- 298 --
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 burn'd sack be the issue. Come, lay their
swords to pawn. Follow me, lads 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.
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 vlouting-stog.
I desire you, that we may be friends; and let
us knog our prains together to be revenge on this
same scald-scurvy-cogging companion, the Host of the
Garter.
Caius.
By gar, with all my heart; he promise to
bring me where is Anne Page; by gar, he deceive me
too.
Eva.
Well, I will smite his noddles; pray you,
follow.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
The Street, in Windsor.
Enter Mistress Page, and 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.
-- 299 --
Enter Ford.
Ford.
Well met, mistress Page; whither 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.
Ford.
Sir John Falstaff?
Mrs. Page.
He, he; I can never hit on's 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.
SCENE V.
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 easy as a cannon will shoot point-blank twelve-score;
he pieces 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 borow'd veil
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
-- 300 --
cry aim. The clock gives me my cue, 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.
SCENE VI.
To him, 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 myself, Mr. Ford.
Slen.
And so must I, Sir; we have appointed to
dine with Mrs. 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, by 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, 3 notehe 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.
-- 301 --
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.
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.
SCENE VII.
Changes to Ford's House.
Enter Mrs. Ford, Mrs. Page, and Servants with a basket.
Mrs. Ford.
What, John! what, Robert!
Mrs. Page.
Quickly, quickly: is the buck-basket—
Mrs. Ford.
I warrant—What, Robin, I say.
Mrs. Page.
Come, come, come.
Mrs. Ford.
Here, set it down.
Mrs. Page.
Give your men the charge, we must
be brief.
-- 302 --
Mrs. Ford.
Marry, as I told you before, John and
Robert, be ready here hard-by in the brew-house, and
when I suddenly call on you, come forth, and without
any pause or staggering take this basket on your
shoulders; that done, trudge with it in all haste, and
carry it among the whitsters in Datchet-Mead, and
there empty it in the muddy ditch close by the Thames
side.
Mrs. Page.
You will do it?
Mrs. Ford.
I ha' told them over and over; they
lack no direction. Be gone, and come when you
are call'd.
Mrs. Page.
Here comes little Robin.
Enter Robin.
Mrs. Ford.
4 noteHow now, my Eyas-musket, what
news with you?
Rob.
My master Sir John is come in at your backdoor,
mistress Ford, and requests your company.
Mrs. Page.
You little Jack-a-lent, have you been
true to us?
Rob.
Ay, I'll be sworn; my master knows not of
your being here, and hath threaten'd to put me into
everlasting liberty, if I tell you of it; for he swears,
he'll turn me away.
Mrs. Page.
Thou'rt a good boy; this secresy of
thine shall be a tailor to thee, and shall make thee
a new doublet and hose. I'll go hide me.
-- 303 --
Mrs. Ford.
Do so; go tell thy master, I am alone;
mistress Page, remember you your cue.
[Exit Robin.
Mrs. Page.
I warrant thee; if I do not act it, hiss
me.
[Exit Mrs. Page.
Mrs. Ford.
Go to then; we'll use this unwholsome
humidity, this gross watry pumpion—we'll teach
him to know turtles from jays.
SCENE VIII.
Enter Falstaff.
Fal.
Have I caught thee, my heav'nly jewel? why,
now let me die; for I have liv'd long enough: this is
the period of my ambition: O this blessed hour!
Mrs. Ford.
O sweet Sir John?
Fal.
Mrs. Ford, I cannot cog; I cannot prate, mistress
Ford: now shall I sin in my wish. I would, thy
husband were dead; I'll speak it before the best lord, I
would make thee my lady.
Mrs. Ford.
I your lady, Sir John? alas, I should
be a pitiful lady.
Fal.
Let the Court of France shew me such another;
I see how thine eye would emulate the diamond;
thou hast the right arched bent of the brow, 5 note
that
becomes the ship-tire, the tire-vailant, or any 'tire of
Venetian admittance.
-- 304 --
Mrs. Ford.
A plain kerchief, Sir John: my brows
become nothing else, nor that well neither.
-- 305 --
Fal.
Thou art a traytor to say so; thou would'st
make an absolute Courtier; and the firm fixure of thy
foot would give an excellent motion to thy gate, in a
semi-circled farthingale. I see what thou wert; if fortune
thy foe were not, nature is thy friend: come,
thou canst not hide it.
Mrs. Ford.
Believe me, there's no such thing in me.
Fal.
What made me love thee? let that persuade
thee, there's something extraordinary in thee. Come,
I cannot cog, and say, thou art this and that, like
a-many of these lisping haw-thorn buds, that come
like women in mens apparel, and smell like Bucklers-Bury
in simpling time; I cannot: but I love thee,
none but thee; and thou deservest it.
Mrs. Ford.
Do not betray me, Sir; I fear you love
mistress Page.
Fal.
Thou might'st as well say, I love to walk by
the Counter-gate, which is as hateful to me as the reek
of a lime-kiln.
Mrs. Ford.
Well, heav'n knows how I love you,
and you shall one day find it.
Fal.
Keep in that mind; I'll deserve it.
Mrs. Ford.
Nay, I must tell you, so you do; or
else I could not be in that mind.
Rob. [within.]
Mistress Ford, mistress Ford, here's
mistress Page at the door, sweating, and blowing, and
looking wildly, and would needs speak with you presently.
Fal.
She shall not see me; I will ensconce me behind
the arras.
Mrs. Ford.
Pray you, do so; she's a very tattling
woman.
[Falstaff hides himself.
-- 306 --
SCENE IX.
Enter Mistress Page.
What's the matter? how now?
Mrs. Page.
O mistress Ford, what have you done?
you're sham'd, y'are overthrown, you are undone for
ever.
Mrs. Ford.
What's the matter, good mistress Page?
Mrs. Page.
O well-a-day, mistress Ford, having an
honest man to your husband, to give him such cause
of suspicion!
Mrs. Ford.
What cause of suspicion?
Mrs. Page.
What cause of suspicion? out upon you!
how am I mistook in you?
Mrs. Ford.
Why, alas! what's the matter?
Mrs. Page.
Your husband's coming hither, woman,
with all the officers in Windsor, to search for a gentleman,
that, he says, is here now in the house, by your
consent, to take an ill advantage of his absence. You
are undone.
Mrs. Ford.
Speak louder—[Aside] 'Tis not so,
I hope.
Mrs. Page.
Pray heav'n it be not so, that you have
such a man here; but 'tis most certain, your husband's
coming with half Windsor at his heels, to search for such
a one. I come before to tell you: if you know your
self clear, why, I am glad of it; but if you have a
friend here, convey, convey him out. Be not amaz'd,
call all your Senses to you, defend your reputation, or
bid farewel to your good life for ever.
Mrs. Ford.
What shall I do? there is a gentleman,
my dear friend; and I fear not mine own shame, so
much as his peril. I had rather than a thousand pound,
he were out of the house.
Mrs. Page.
For shame, never stand you had rather,
and you had rather; your husband's here at hand;
-- 307 --
bethink you of some conveyance, in the house you
cannot hide him. Oh, how have you deceiv'd me?
look, here is a basket, if he be of any reasonable
stature, he may creep in here, and throw foul linnen
upon him, as if it were going to bucking: or it is
whiting time, send him by your two men to Datchet-mead.
Mrs. Ford.
He's too big to go in there: what shall
I do?
Re-enter Falstaff.
Fal.
Let me see't, let me see't, O let me see't; I'll
in, I'll in; follow your friend's counsel; I'll in.
Mrs. Page.
What! Sir John Falstaff? are these
your letters, Knight?
Fal.
I love thee, help me away; let me creep in
here: I'll never—
[He goes into the basket, they cover him with foul linnen.
Mrs. Page.
Help to cover your master, boy: call
your men, mistress Ford. You dissembling Knight!
Mrs. Ford.
What, John, Robert, John, go take
up these cloaths here, quickly. Where's the cowlstaff?
look, how you drumble: carry them to the
landress in Datchet-mead; quickly, come.
SCENE X.
Enter Ford, Page, Caius, and Evans.
Ford.
Pray you, come near; if I suspect without
cause, why then make sport at me, then let me be
your jest, I deserve it. How now? whither bear you
this?
Serv.
To the landress, forsooth.
Mrs. Ford.
Why, what have you to do whither
they bear it? You were best meddle with buck-washing.
-- 308 --
Ford.
Buck? I would, I could, wash my self of the
buck: buck, buck, buck? ay, buck: I warrant you,
buck, and of the season too, it shall appear. [Exeunt
Servants with the basket.] Gentlemen, I have dream'd
to night, I'll tell you my dream: here, here, here be
my keys; ascend my chambers, search, seek, find out.
I'll warrant, we'll unkennel the fox. Let me stop
this way first. 6 noteSo, now uncape.
Page.
Good master Ford, be contented: you wrong
your self too much.
Ford.
True, master Page. Up, gentlemen, you
shall see sport anon; follow me, gentlemen.
Eva.
This is ferry fantastical humours and jealousies.
Caius.
By gar, 'tis no the fashion of France; it is
not jealous in France—
Page.
Nay, follow him, gentlemen, see the issue of
his search.
[Exeunt.
SCENE XI.
Manent Mistress Page and Mistress Ford.
Mrs. Page.
Is there not a double excellency in
this?
Mrs. Ford.
I know not which pleases me better,
that my husband is deceiv'd, or Sir John.
Mrs. Page.
What a taking was he in, when your
husband ask'd who was in the basket!
Mrs. Ford.
I am half afraid he will have need of
washing; so throwing him into the water will do him
a benefit.
-- 309 --
Mrs. Page.
Hang him, dishonest rascal; I would, all
of the same strain were in the same distress.
Mrs. Ford.
I think, my husband hath some special
suspicion of Falstaff's being here! I never saw him so
gross in his jealousie till now.
Mrs. Page.
I will lay a plot to try that, and we will
yet have more tricks with Falstaff: his dissolute disease
will scarce obey this medicine.
Mrs. Ford.
Shall we send that foolish carrion, mistress
Quickly, to him, and excuse his throwing into the
water, and give him another hope, to betray him to
another punishment?
Mrs. Page.
We'll do it; let him be sent for to-morrow
by eight a clock, to have amends.
Re-enter Ford, Page, &c.
Ford.
I cannot find him; may be, the knave brag'd
of that he could not compass.
Mrs. Page.
Heard you that?
Mrs. Ford.
I, I; peace:—You use me well, master
Ford, do you?
Ford.
Ay, ay, I do so.
Mrs. Ford.
Heav'n make you better than your
thoughts!
Ford.
Amen.
Mrs. Page.
You do your self mighty wrong, Mr.
Ford.
Ford.
Ay, ay; I must bear it.
Eva.
If there be any pody in the house, and in the
chambers, and in the coffers, and in the presses, heav'n
forgive my sins!
Caius.
By gar, nor I too; there is no bodies.
Page.
Fie, fie, Mr. Ford, are you not asham'd?
what spirit, what devil suggests this imagination? I
would not ha' your distemper in this kind, for the
wealth of Windsor Castle.
Ford.
'Tis my fault, Mr. Page: I suffer for it.
-- 310 --
Eva.
You suffer for a pad conscience; your wife is
as honest a o'mans, as I will desires among five thousand,
and five hundred too.
Caius.
By gar, I see, 'tis an honest woman.
Ford.
Well, I promis'd you a dinner; come, come,
walk in the park. I pray you, pardon me; I will
hereafter make known to you, why I have done this.
Come, wife; come, mistress Page; I pray you pardon
me: pray heartily, pardon me.
Page.
Let's go in, gentlemen; but trust me, we'll
mock him. I do invite you to morrow morning to
my house to breakfast; after, we'll a birding together;
I have a fine hawk for the bush. Shall it be so?
Ford.
Any thing.
Eva.
If there is one, I shall make two in the company.
Caius.
If there be one or two, I shall make-a de
turd.
Eva.
In your teeth, for shame.
Ford.
Pray you go, Mr. Page.
Eva.
I pray you now, remembrance to morrow on
the lousie knave, mine Host.
Caius.
Dat is good, by gar, with all my heart.
Eva.
A lousie knave, to have his gibes, and his
mockeries.
[Exeunt.
SCENE XII.
Changes to Page's House.
Enter Fenton and Mistress Anne Page.
Fent.
I see, I cannot get thy father's love;
Therefore no more turn me to him, sweet Nan.
Anne.
Alas! how then?
Fen.
Why, thou must be thy self.
He doth object, I am too great of birth;
-- 311 --
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.
[Fenton and Mistress Anne go apart.
SCENE XIII.
Enter Shallow, Slender, and Mistress 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 dismay'd.
Slen.
No, she shall not dismay me? I care not for
that, but that 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.
-- 312 --
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 Gloucestershire.
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 my 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.
-- 313 --
SCENE XIV.
Enter Page, and mistress Page.
Page.
Now, master Slender: love him, daughter Anne.
—Why, how now? what does master Fenton here?
You wrong me, Sir, thus still to haunt my house:
I told you, Sir, my daughter is dispos'd of.
Fent.
Nay, master Page, be not impatient.
Mrs. Page.
Good Master Fenton, come not to
my child.
Page.
She is no match for you.
Fent.
Sir, will you hear me?
Page.
No, good master Fenton.
Come, master Shallow; come, son Slender, in.
Knowing my mind, you wrong me, master Fenton.
[Exeunt Page, Shallow, and Slender.
Quic.
Speak to mistress Page.
Fent.
Good mistress Page, for that I love your daughter
In such a righteous fashion as I do,
Perforce, against all checks, rebukes and manners,
I must advance the colours of my love,
And not retire. Let me have your good will.
Anne.
Good mother, do not marry me to yon fool.
Mrs. Page.
I mean it not, I seek you a better husband.
Quic.
That's my master, master Doctor.
7 note
Anne.
Alas, I had rather be set quick i'th' earth.
Quic.
And bowl'd to death with turnips.
-- 314 --
Mrs. Page.
Come, trouble not your self; good master Fenton,
I will not be your friend nor enemy:
My daughter will I question how she loves you,
And as I find her, so am I affected.
'Till then, farewel, Sir; she must needs go in.
Her father will be angry.
[Exeunt Mrs Page and Anne.
Fent.
Farewel, gentle mistress; farewel, Nan.
Quic.
This is my doing now. Nay, said I, will
you cast away your child on a fool, and a physician?
look on master Fenton: this is my doing.
Fent.
I thank thee; and I pray thee, once to night
Give my sweet Nan this ring: there's for thy pains.
[Exit.
Quic.
Now heav'n send thee good fortune! A kind
heart he hath, a woman would run through fire and
water for such a kind heart. But yet, I would my
master had mistress Anne, or I would Mr. Slender had
her; or, in sooth, I would Mr. Fenton had her. I
will do what I can for them all three, for so I have
promis'd; and I'll be as good as my word, but speciously
for Mr. Fenton. Well, I must of another errand
to Sir John Falstaff from my two mistresses;
what a beast am I to slack it?
[Exit.
SCENE XV.
Changes to 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.
[Exit Bard.] Have I liv'd to be carry'd, in a basket,
like a barrow of butchers' 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
-- 315 --
them to a dog for a new-year's gift. The rogues
slighted me into the river with as little remorse as they
would have drown'd a bitch's blind puppies, fifteen
i'th' 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.
Enter Bardolph.
Now, is the Sack brew'd?
Bard.
Here's Mrs. Quickly, Sir, to 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.
SCENE XVI.
Enter Mrs. Quickly.
Quic.
By your leave: I cry you mercy. Give your
worship good morrow.
Fal.
Take away these challices; go brew me a pottle
of sack finely.
Bard.
With eggs, Sir?
Fal.
Simple of it self: 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 on a foolish woman's
promise.
-- 316 --
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 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 mony well. Oh,
here he comes.
SCENE XVII.
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 continul larum of
jealousie, 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.
-- 317 --
Ford.
What, while you was 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 Ford's
approach, and 8 noteby her invention, and Ford's wife's
direction, 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 greasie
napkins; that, master Brook, there was the rankest compound
of villainous 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, lest
the lunatick 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 egregious deaths: first, an
intolerable fright, to be detected by a jealous rotten
bell-weather; next to be compass'd like a good bilbo,
in the circumference of a peck, hilt to point, heel to
head; and then to be stopt in, like a strong distillation,
with stinking cloaths that freted in their own
grease: think of that, a man of my kidney; think of
-- 318 --
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 suffer'd all this. My suit is then desperate;
you'll undertake her no more?
Fal.
Master Brook, I will be thrown into Etna, 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 embassie of meeting; 'twixt
eight and nine is the hour, master Brook.
Ford.
'Tis past eight already, Sir.
Fal.
Is it? I will then address me 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 linnen and buck-baskets!
well, I will proclaim my self what I am; I
will now take the leacher; 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 aid him, I
will search impossible places; tho' 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, I'll be horn-mad.
[Exit.
-- 319 --
Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].
