Page.
M. Fo.
Sir John? art thou there, my deer; my male
deer?
Fals.
My doe, with the black scut?—Let the sky
rain potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of Green-sleeves;
hail kissing-comfits, note and snow eringoes; let there come
a tempest of provocation, I will shelter me here.
[embracing her.
M. Fo.
Mistress Page is come with me, sweet heart.
Fals.
Divide me like a brib'd-buck, each a haunch:
I will keep my sides to myself, my shoulders for the
fellow of this walk, and my horns I bequeath your
husbands. note Am I a woodman? ha! speak I like Herne
the hunter?—Why, now is Cupid a child of conscience;
he makes restitution:—As I am a true spirit, welcome.
M. Pa.
Alas, what noise?
[Noise within.
M. Fo.
Heaven forgive our sins!
Fals.
What should this be?
Wom.
Away, away.
[they run off.
Fals.
I think, the devil will not have me damn'd,
lest the oil that's in me should set hell on fire; he would
never else cross me thus.
Enter, from the Pit, Sir Hugh, and his Troop of Fairies, with Lights, running.
Quic.
Fairies, black, grey, green, and white,
You moon-shine revellers, and shades of night,
You orphan heirs14Q0081 of fixed destiny,
Attend your office, and your quality.—
Cryer Hob-goblin, make the fairy o-yes.
Pist.
Elves, list your names; silence, you airy toys.
Cricket, to Windsor chimneys shalt thou leap:
Where fires thou find'st unrak'd, and hearths unswept,
-- 88 --
There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry;
Our radiant queen hates sluts, and sluttery note.
Fals.
They are fairies; he, that speaks to them, shall dye:
I'll wink, and couch; No man their works must eye.
[lyes down, upon his Face.
Sir H.
Where's Pede?—go you, and where you find a maid,
That, ere she sleep, has thrice her prayers said,
Rein up note the organs of her fantasy;
Sleep she as sound as careless infancy:
But those, as sleep, and think not on their sins,
Pinch them arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides, and shins.
Quic.
—About, about;
Search Windsor castle, elves, within and 'out:
Strew good luck, ouphes, on every sacred room;
That it may stand 'till the perpetual doom,
In state as note wholesome,14Q0082 as in state 'tis fit,
Worthy the owner, and the owner it.
The several chairs of order look you scour
With juice of balm and every precious flower:
Each fair instalment coat, and several crest,
With loyal blazon, evermore be blest;
And nightly, meadow fairies, look you sing,
Like to the garter's compass, in a ring:
The expressure that it bears, green let it be,
More fertile-fresh note than all the field to see;
And, Honi soit qui mal y pense, write
In emerald tufts note, flowers purple, blue, and white;
Like saphire, pearl, and rich embroidery,
Buckl'd below fair knighthood's bending knee;
Fairies use flowers for their charactery.
Away; disperse: But 'till 'tis one o'clock,
-- 89 --
Our dance of custom, round about the oak
Of Herne the hunter, let us not forget.
Sir H.
Pray you,
Lock hand in hand; yourselves in order set:
And twenty glow-worms shall our lanthorns be,
To guide our measure round about the tree.—
But, stay; I smell a man of middle earth.
Fals.
Heavens defend me from that Welch fairy!
lest he transform me to a piece of cheese.
Pist.
Vile worm, thou wast o'er-look'd even in thy birth.
Quic.
With trial fire touch me his finger end:
If he be chast, the flame will back descend,
And turn him to no pain; but if he start,
It is the flesh of a corrupted heart.
Pist.
A trial, come.
Sir H.
Come, will this wood take fire?
[applying their Tapers.
Fals.
O, o, o!
Quic.
Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire!—
About him, fairies; sing a scornful rime;
And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time. note
Song.
Fie on sinful fantasy!
fie on lust, and luxury!
lust is but a bloody fire,14Q0083
kindl'd with unchast desire,
fed in heart; whose flames aspire,
as thoughts do blow them, higher and higher:—
Pinch him, fairies, mutually; note
pinch him for his villany;
pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about,
'till candles, and star-light, and moon-shine be out.
-- 90 --
During this Song, (in which the Fairies
pinch Falstaff, burn him with their Tapers, and dance
about him) Doctor Caius comes one way, and carries
off a Fairy in green; Slender another way, and takes
one in white; and Fenton steals away Mistress
Anne. Noise heard within: Fairies break off their
Dance: Falstaff rises: and Enter Ford, Page,
Mistress Ford and Mistress Page.
Page.
Nay, do not fly: I think, we have watch'd you now;
Will none but Herne the hunter serve your turn?
M. Pa.
I pray you, come, hold up the jest no higher:—
Now, good sir John, how like you Windsor wives?—
See you † these, husband? note14Q0084 do not these fair oaks note
Become the forest better than the town?
Ford.
Now, sir, who's a cuckold now?—Master
Brook, Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldly knave; here are
his horns, master Brook: And master Brook, he hath
enjoyed nothing of Ford's, but his buck-basket, his
cudgel, and twenty pounds of money; which must be
pay'd too, master note Brook; his horses are arrested for it,
master Brook.
M. Fo.
Sir John, we have had ill luck; we could
never meet: I will never take you for my love again,
but I will always count you my deer.
Fals.
I do begin to perceive that I am made an ass.
Ford.
Ay, and an ox too; both the proofs are extant.
Fals.
And these are not fairies? I was three or
four times in the thought, they were not fairies: and
yet the guiltiness of my mind, the sudden surprize of
my powers, drove the grossness of the foppery into a
receiv'd belief, in despight of the teeth of all rime and
-- 91 --
reason, that they were fairies: See now, how wit may
be made a jack-o'lent, when 'tis upon ill employment!
Sir H.
Sir John Falstaff, serve Got, and leave your
desires, and fairies will not pinse you.
Ford.
Well said, fairy Hugh.
Sir H.
And leave you your jealousies also, I pray
you.
Ford.
I will never mistrust my wife again, 'till thou
art able to woo her in good English
Fals.
Have I lay'd my brain in the sun, and dry'd
it, that it wants matter to prevent so gross o'er-reaching
as this? Am I ridden with a Welch goat too? shall
I have a coxcomb of frize? 'tis time I were choak'd
with a piece of toasted cheese.
Sir H.
Seese is not good to give putter; your pelly note
is all putter.
Fals.
Seese and putter! have I liv'd to stand at
the taunt note of one that makes fritters of English? this is
enough to be the decay of lust and late-walking through
the realm.
M. Pa.
Why, sir John, do you think, though we
would have thrust virtue out of our hearts by the head
and shoulders, and have given ourselves without scruple
to hell, that ever the devil could have made you our
delight?
Ford.
What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax?
M. Pa.
A puft man?
Page.
Old, cold, wither'd, and of intolerable entrails?
Ford.
And one that is as slanderous note as Satan?
Page.
And as poor as Job?
Ford.
And as wicked as his wife?
-- 92 --
Sir H.
And given to fornications, and to taverns,
and sack, and wine, and metheglins, and to drinkings,
and swearings, and starings, note pribbles and prabbles?
Fals.
Well, I am your theme; you have the start
of me; I am dejected; I am not able to answer the
Welch flannel, ignorance itself is a plummet note o'er me:
use me as you will.
Ford.
Marry, sir, we'll bring you to Windsor, to
one master Brook, that you have cozen'd of money, to
whom you should have been a pander: over and above
that you have suffer'd, I think, to repay that money
will be a biting affliction. note
Page.
Yet be chearful, knight: thou shalt eat a
posset to-night at my house; where I will desire thee
to laugh at my wife, that now laughs at thee; tell her,
master Slender hath marry'd her daughter.
M. Pa.
Doctors note doubt that; if Anne Page be my
daughter, she is, by this, doctor Caius' wife.
Enter Slender.
Slen.
Whoo, ho, ho, note father Page!
Page.
Son! how now? how now, son? note Have you
dispatch'd?
Slen.
Dispatch'd!—I'll make the best in Glo'stershire
know on't; 'would I were hang'd, la, else.
Page.
Of what, son?
Slen.
I came yonder at Eaton to marry mistress
Anne Page, and she's a great lubberly boy: If it had
not been i'th' church, I would have swing'd him, or
he should have swing'd me. If I did not think it had
been Anne Page, 'would I might never stir, and 'tis a
post-master's boy.
Page.
Upon my life then you took the wrong.
-- 93 --
Slen.
What need you tell me that? I think so note
when I took a boy for a girl: If I had been marry'd to
him, for all he was in woman's apparel, I would not
have had him.
Page.
Why, this is your own folly; Did not I tell
you how you should know my daughter by her garments?
Slen.
I went to her in white,14Q0085 and cry'd, mum,
and she cry'd, budget, as Anne and I had appointed;
and yet it was not Anne, but a post-master's boy. note
M. Pa.
Good George, be not angry: I knew of your
purpose; turn'd my daughter into green; and note, indeed,
she is now with the doctor at the deanery, and there
marry'd.
Enter Doctor Caius.
D. Cai.
Vere is mistress Page?—By gar, I am cozened;
I have marry'd un garçon, a boy, note un paisan, note by gar,
a boy; it is not Anne Page: by gar, I am cozened.
M. Pa.
Why, did you take her in green?
D. Cai.
Ay, by gar, and 'tis a boy: by gar, I'll raise
all Windsor.
[Exit Caius.
Ford.
This is strange! Who hath got the right Anne?
Page.
My heart misgives me: Here comes master Fenton.
Enter Fenton, and Anne Page.
How now, master Fenton?
Anne.
Pardon, good father! good my mother, pardon!
Page.
Now, mistress? how chance you went not
with master Slender?
M. Pa.
Why went you not with master doctor, maid?
Fent.
You do amaze her; Hear the truth of it.
-- 94 --
You would have marry'd her most shamefully,
Where there was no proportion held in love.
The truth is, She and I, long since contracted,
Are now so sure that nothing can dissolve us.
The offence is holy, that she hath committed:
And this deceit loses the name of craft,
Of disobedience, or unduteous title;
Since therein she doth evitate and shun
A thousand irreligious cursed hours,
Which forced marriage would have brought upon her.
Ford.
Stand not amaz'd: here is no remedy:—
In love, the heavens themselves do guide the state;
Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate.
Fals.
I am glad, though you ta'en a special stand
to strike at me, that your arrow hath glanc'd.
Page.
Well, what remedy?—Fenton, heaven give thee joy!
What cannot be eschew'd, must be embrac'd. note
Fals.
When night dogs run, all sorts of deer are chac'd.
M. Pa.
Well, I will muse no further:—Master Fenton,
Heaven give you many, many merry days!—
Good husband, let us every one go home,
And laugh this sport o'er by a country fire;
Sir John and all.
Ford.
Let it be so, sir John:
To master Brook you yet shall hold your word;
For he, to-night, shall lye with mistress Ford.
[Exeunt.
