SCENE I.
Before Page's House.
Enter Mistress Page, with a Letter.
M. Pa.
What, have I 'scap'd note love-letters in the holiday
time of my beauty, and am I now a subject for
them? Let me see:
[reads.
Ask me no reason why I love you; for though love14Q0057
use reason for his precisian, he admits him not for his
counsellor: You are not young, no more am I; go to
then, there's sympathy: you are merry, so am I; Ha!
ha! then there's more sympathy: you love sack, and so
do I; Would you desire better sympathy? let it suffice
thee, mistress Page, (at the least, if the love of soldier
can suffice) that I love thee: I will not say, pity me, 'tis
not a soldier-like phrase; but I say, love me. By me,
Thine own true knight,
By day or night,
Or any kind of light,
With all his might
For thee to fight,
John Falstaff.
What a Herod of Jewry is this?—O wicked, wicked
-- 23 --
world!—one that is well-nigh worn to pieces with
age, to show himself a young gallant! What one unweigh'd note
behaviour hath this Flemish drunkard pick'd
(with the devil's note name) out of my conversation, that
he dares in this manner assay me? Why, he hath not
been thrice in my company!—What should I say to
him?—I was then frugal of my mirth: Heaven forgive
me! Why, I'll exhibit a bill in the parliament
for the putting down of men. note How shall I be reveng'd
on him? for reveng'd I will be, as sure as his guts are
made of puddings.
Enter Mistress Ford.
M. Fo.
Mistress Page! trust me, I was going to your
house.
M. Pa.
And, trust me, I was going note to you. You look
very ill.
M. Fo.
Nay, I'll ne'er believe that; I have to shew
to the contrary.
M. Pa.
'Faith, but you do, in my mind.
M. Fo.
Well, I do then; yet, I say, I could shew
you to the contrary: O, mistress Page, give me some
counsel!
M. Pa.
What's the matter, woman?
M. Fo.
O woman, if it were not for one trifling respect,
I could come to such honour!
M. Pa.
Hang the trifle, woman; take the honour:
What is it?—dispence with trifles;—what is it?
M. Fo.
If I would but go to hell for an eternal moment,
or so, I could be knighted.
M. Pa.
What,—thou ly'st?—sir Alice Ford! These
knights will hack;14Q0058 and so thou should'st not alter the
article of thy gentry.
-- 24 --
M. Fo.
We burn daylight: here, &dagger2; read, read; perceive
how I might be knighted.—I shall think the worse
of fat men, as long as I have an eye to make difference
of men's liking: And yet he would not swear; prais'd note
women's modesty; and gave such orderly and well-behaved
reproof to all uncomeliness, that I would have
sworn his disposition would have gone to the truth of
his words: but they do no more adhere, and keep place note
together, than the hundredth psalm note to the tune of Green
sleeves. What tempest, I trow, threw this whale, with so
many tuns of oil in his belly, a-shore at Windsor? How
shall I be reveng'd on him? I think, the best way were
to entertain him with hope, 'till the wicked fire of lust
have melted him in his own grease.—Did you ever hear
the like?
M. Pa.
Letter for letter; but that the name of Page
and Ford differs!—To thy great comfort in this mystery
of ill opinions, here's &dagger2; the twin brother of thy
letter: but let thine inherit first; for, I protest, mine
never shall. I warrant, he hath a thousand of these letters,
writ with blank space for different names, (sure,
more) note and these are of the second edition: He will
print them, out of doubt; for he cares not what he
puts into the press, when he would put us two: I had
rather be a giantess, and lye under mount Pelion. Well,
I will find you twenty lascivious turtles, e'er one chast
man.
M. Fo.
Why, this is the very same, the very hand,
the very words; What doth he think of us?
M. Pa.
Nay, I know not:—It makes me almost ready
to wrangle with mine own honesty: I'll entertain
myself like one that I am not acquainted withal; for,
-- 25 --
sure, unless he know some note strain note in me, that I know not
myself, he would never have boarded me in this fury.
M. Fo.
Boarding, call you it? I'll be sure to keep
him above deck.
M. Pa.
So will I; if he come under my hatches, I'll
never to sea again. Let's be reveng'd on him: let's appoint
him a meeting; give him a show of comfort in
his suit; and lead him on with a fine-baited delay,
'till he hath pawn'd his horses to mine host of the
garter.
M. Fo.
Nay, I will consent to act any villany against
him, that may not sully the chariness of our honesty.
O, that my husband note saw this letter! it would give
eternal food to his jealousy.
M. Pa.
Why, look where he comes; and my good
man too: he's as far from jealousy, as I am from giving
him cause; and that, I hope, is an unmeasurable
distance.
M. Fo.
You are the happier woman.
M. Pa.
Let's consult together against this greasy
knight: Come hither.
[they converse apart.
Enter Ford, Pistol, Page, and Nym.
Ford.
Well, I hope it be not so.
Pist.
Hope is a curtal dog in some affairs:
Sir John affects thy wife.
Ford.
Why, sir, my wife is not young.
Pist.
He wooes both high and low, both rich and poor,
Both young and old, one with another, Ford;
He loves thy gally-mawfry note; Ford, perpend.
Ford.
Love my wife?
Pist.
With liver burning hot: Prevent; or go thou
Like sir Acteon, he, with Ringwood at thy heels:
-- 26 --
O, odious is the name!
Ford.
What name, sir?
Pist.
The horn, I say: Farewel.
Take heed; have open eye; for thieves do foot by night:
Take heed, ere summer comes, or cuckoo birds do sing.—
Away, sir corporal Nym.—
Believe it, Page; he speaks sense.
&clquo;Ford.
&clquo;I will be patient; I will find out this.&crquo;
Nym.
And this is true; [to Page.] I like not the
humour of lying. He hath wronged me in some humours:
I should have born the humour'd letter to her;
but I have a sword, and it shall bite upon my necessity.
He loves your wife; there's the short and the long. My
name is corporal Nym; I speak, and I avouch. 'Tis true:
my name is Nym, and Falstaff loves your wife. Adieu!
I love not the humour of bread and cheese; and there's
the humour of it. note Adieu.
[Exeunt Pistol, and Nym.
Page.
The humour of it,14Q0059 quoth 'a! here's a fellow
frights humour out note of his wits.
&clquo;Ford.
&clquo;I will seek out Falstaff.&crquo;
Page.
I never heard such a drawling, affecting note rogue.
&clquo;Ford.
&clquo;If I do find it,—Well.&crquo;
Page.
I will not believe such a Cataian, though the
priest o'the town commended him for a true man.
&clquo;Ford.
&clquo;'Twas a good sensible fellow:—Well.&crquo;
Page.
How now, Meg?
M. Pa.
Whither go you, George? Hark you.
M. Fo.
How now, sweet Frank? why art thou melancholy?
Ford.
I melancholy! I am not melancholy. Get you
home, go.
M. Fo.
'Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy head.—
-- 27 --
Now, will you go, mistress Page?
M. Pa.
Have with you.—You'll come to dinner,
George?—&clquo;Look who comes yonder: she shall be our
messenger to this paltry knight.&crquo;
Enter Mistress Quickly.
M. Fo.
&clquo;Trust me, I thought on her: she'll fit it.&crquo;
M. Pa.
You are come to see my daughter Anne?
Quic.
Ay, forsooth; And, I pray, how does good
mistress Anne?
M. Pa.
Go in with us, and see; we have an hour's
talk with you.
[Exeunt Women.
Page.
How now, master Ford?
Ford.
You heard what this knave told me; did you
not?
Page.
Yes; And you heard what the other told me?
Ford.
Do you think there is truth in them?
Page.
Hang 'em, slaves! I do not think the knight
would offer it: but these, that accuse him in his intent
towards our wives, are a yoak of his discarded men;
very rogues, now they be out of service.
Ford.
Were they his men?
Page.
Marry, were they.
Ford.
I like it never the better for that—Does he
lye at the garter?
Page.
Ay, marry, does he. If he should intend this
voyage toward my wife, I would turn her loose to him;
and what he gets more of her than sharp words, let it
lye on my head.
Ford.
I do not misdoubt my wife; but I would be
loth to turn them together: A man may be too confident:
I would have nothing lye on my head: I cannot
be thus satisfy'd.
-- 28 --
Page.
Look where my ranting host of the garter
comes: there is either liquor in his pate, or money in
his purse, when he looks so merrily.—How now, mine
host?
Enter Host, and Shallow.
Host.
How now, bully rook? thou'rt a gentleman:—
Cavalero justice, I say!
Shal.
I follow, mine host, I follow.—Good even,
and twenty, good master Page! Master Page, will you
go with us? we have sport in hand.
Host.
Tell him, cavalero justice; tell him, bully
rook.
Shal.
Sir, there is a fray to be fought, between sir
Hugh the Welch priest and Caius the French doctor.
Ford.
Good mine host o' the garter, a word with
you.
[drawing him aside.
Host.
What say'st thou, my bully rook?
Shal.
Will you [to Page.] go with us to behold it?
My merry host hath had the measuring of their weapons;
and, I think, hath appointed note them contrary places:
for, believe me, I hear the parson is no jester.
Hark, I will tell you what our sport shall be.
[they converse apart.
Host.
Hast thou no suit against my knight, my
guest cavalier?
Ford.
None, I protest: but I'll give you a pottle
of burnt sack, to give me recourse to him, and tell him
my name is Brook note;14Q0060 only for a jest.
Host.
My hand, bully; thou shalt have egress and
regress, (said I well?) and thy name shall be Brook note:
It is a merry knight.—Will you go, mynheers? note note
Shal.
Have with you, mine host.
-- 29 --
Page.
I have heard, the Frenchman hath good skill
in his rapier.
Shal.
Tut, sir, I could have told you more: In
these times you stand on distance, your passes, stoccadoes,
and I know not what; 'tis the heart, master Page,
'tis † here, 'tis here: I have seen the time, with my long
sword, I would have made you four tall fellows skip
like rats.
Host.
Here, boys, here, here! shall we wag?
Page.
Have with you:—I had rather hear them note
scold, than fight.
[Exeunt Host, Page, and Shal.
Ford.
Though Page be a secure fool, and stands so
firmly on his wife's frailty, note yet I cannot put off my
opinion so easily: She was in his company at Page's
house; and, what they made there, I know not. Well,
I will look further into't; and I have a disguise to
sound Falstaff: If I find her honest, I lose not my labour;
if she be otherwise, 'tis labour well bestowed.
[Exit.
Edward Capell [1767], Mr William Shakespeare his comedies, histories, and tragedies, set out by himself in quarto, or by the Players his Fellows in folio, and now faithfully republish'd from those Editions in ten Volumes octavo; with an introduction: Whereunto will be added, in some other Volumes, notes, critical and explanatory, and a Body of Various Readings entire (Printed by Dryden Leach, for J. and R. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S10601].
