Introductory matter
note
-- 173 --
INTRODUCTION.
This comedy was printed for the first time in a perfect state in the
folio of 1623: it had come out in an imperfect state in 1602, and
again in 1619, in both instances for a bookseller of the name of
Arthur Johnson: Arthur Johnson acquired the right to publish it
from John Busby, and the original entry, and the assignment of the
play, run thus in the Registers of the Stationers' Company.
“18 Jan. 1601. John Busby] An excellent and pleasant conceited
commedie of Sir John Faulstof, and the Merry wyves
of Windesor
“Arth. Johnson] By assignment from Jno. Busbye a. B.
An excellent and pleasant conceited comedie of Sir John
Faulstafe, and the mery wyves of Windsor”
January 1601, according to our present mode of reckoning the
year, was January 1602, and the “most pleasaunt and excellent
conceited comedie of Syr John Falstaffe, and the merrie Wives of
Windsor,” (the title-page following the description in the entry)
appeared in quarto with the date of 1602. It has been the custom
to look upon this edition as the first sketch of the drama, which
Shakespeare afterwards enlarged and improved to the form in which
it appears in the folio of 1623. After the most minute examination,
we are not of that opinion: it has been universally admitted that
the 4to. of 1602 was piratical; and our conviction is that, like the
first edition of “Henry V.” in 1600, it was made up, for the purpose
of sale, partly from notes taken at the theatre, and partly from
memory, without even the assistance of any of the parts as delivered
out by the copyist of the theatre to the actors. It is to be observed,
that John Busby, who assigned “The Merry Wives of Windsor”
to Arthur Johnson in 1602, was the same bookseller who, two years
before, had joined in the publication of the undoubtedly surreptitious
“Henry V.”
An exact reprint of the 4to. of 1602 has recently been made by the
Shakespeare Society, under the care of Mr. J. O. Halliwell; and any
person possessing it may easily institute a comparison between that
very hasty and mangled outline, and the complete and authorised
comedy in the folio of 1623, printed from the play-house manuscript
in the hands of Heminge and Condell: on this comparison we rely
for evidence to establish the position, that the 4to. of 1602 was not
only published without the consent of the author, or of the company
-- 174 --
for which it was written, but that it was fraudulently made up by
some person or persons who attended at the theatre for the purpose.
It will be found that there is no variation in the progress of the plot,
and that although one or two transpositions may be pointed out, of
most of the speeches, necessary to the conduct and development of
the story, there is some germ or fragment: all are made to look
like prose or verse, apparently at the mere caprice of the writer,
and the edition is wretchedly printed in a large type, as if the object
had been to bring it out with speed, in order to take advantage of a
temporary interest.
That temporary interest perhaps arose more immediately out of
the representation of the comedy before Queen Elizabeth, during the
Christmas holidays preceding the date of the entry in the Stationers'
Registers: the title-page states, that it had been acted “by the Lord
Chamberlain's servants” before the Queen “and elsewhere:” “elsewhere,”
was perhaps at the Globe on the Bankside, and we may
suppose, that it had been brought out in the commencement of the
summer season of 1600, before the death of Sir Thomas Lucy. If
the “dozen white luces” in the first scene were meant to ridicule
him, Shakespeare would certainly not have introduced the allusion
after the death of the object of it. That it continued a favourite
play we can readily believe, and we learn that it was acted before
James I., not long after he came to the throne: the following memorandum
is contained in the accounts of the “Revels at Court” in
the latter end of 1604.
“By his Majesties plaiers. The Sunday following A Play of
the Merry Wiues of Winsor1 note.”
This representation occurred on “the Sunday following” Nov. 1st.,
1604.
What has led some to imagine that the surreptitious impression of
1602 was the comedy as it first came from the hands of Shakespeare,
is a tradition respecting the rapidity with which it was composed.
This tradition, when traced to its source, can be carried back no
farther than 1702: John Dennis in that year printed his “Comical
Gallant,” founded upon “The Merry Wives of Windsor,” and in the
dedication he states, that “the comedy was written at the command
of Queen Elizabeth, and by her direction; and she was so eager to
see it acted, that she commanded it to be finished in fourteen days.”
Dennis gives no authority for any part of this assertion, but because
he knew Dryden, it is supposed to have come from him; and because
Dryden was acquainted with Davenant, it has been conjectured that
the latter might have communicated it to the former. We own that
-- 175 --
we place little or no reliance on the story, especially recollecting that
Dennis had to make out a case in favour of his alterations, by shewing
that Shakespeare had composed the comedy in an incredibly
short period, and consequently that it was capable of improvement.
The assertion by Dennis was repeated by Gildon, Pope, Theobald,
&c., and hence it has obtained a degree of currency and credit to
which it seems by no means entitled.
It has been a disputed question in what part of the series of dramas,
in which Falstaff is introduced, “The Merry Wives of Windsor”
ought to be read: Johnson thought it came in between “Henry IV.”
part ii. and “Henry V.:” Malone, on the other hand, argued that it
should be placed between the two parts of “Henry IV.;” but the
truth is, that almost insuperable difficulties present themselves to
either hypothesis, and we doubt much whether the one or the other
is well founded. Shakespeare, having for some reason been induced
to represent Falstaff in love, considered by what persons he might
be immediately surrounded, and Bardolph, Pistol, Nym, and Mrs.
Quickly, naturally presented themselves to his mind: he was aware
that the audience, with whom they had been favourite characters,
would expect them still to be Falstaff's companions; and though
Shakespeare had in fact hanged two of them in “Henry V.,” and
Mrs. Quickly had died, he might trust to the forgetfulness of those
before whom the comedy was to be represented, and care little for
the consideration, since so eagerly debated, in what part of the series
“The Merry Wives of Windsor” ought to be read: Shakespeare
might sit down to write the comedy without reflecting upon the
manner in which he had previously disposed of some of the characters
he was about to introduce. Any other mode of solving the
modern difficulty seems unsatisfactory, and we do not believe that it
ever presented itself to the mind of our great dramatist.
The earliest notice of any of the persons in “The Merry Wives of
Windsor” is contained in Dekker's play called “Satiromastix,” 1602,
where one of the characters observes, “We must have false fires to
amaze these spangle-babies, these true heirs of master Justice
Shallow.” This allusion must have been made soon after Shakespeare's
comedy had appeared, unless, indeed, it were to the Justice
Shallow of “Henry IV.” part ii.
With regard to the supposed sources of the plot, they have all
been collected by Mr. Halliwell in the appendix to his reprint of the
imperfect edition of “The Merry Wives of Windsor,” in 1602: the
tale of “The Two Lovers of Pisa,” the only known English version
of the time, is also contained in “Shakespeare's Library,” Vol. ii.;
but our opinion is, that the true original of the story (if Shakespeare
did not himself invent the incidents) has not come down to us.
-- 176 --
1 note.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
Sir JOHN FALSTAFF.
FENTON.
SHALLOW, a Country Justice.
SLENDER, Cousin to Shallow.
FORD, Gentleman dwelling at Windsor.
PAGE, Gentleman dwelling at Windsor.
WILLIAM PAGE, a Boy, Son to Mr. Page.
Sir HUGH EVANS, a Welsh Parson.
Dr. CAIUS [Doctor Caius], a French Physician.
Host of the Garter Inn.
BARDOLPH, Follower of Falstaff.
PISTOL, Follower of Falstaff.
NYM, Follower of Falstaff.
ROBIN, Page to Falstaff.
SIMPLE, Servant to Slender.
RUGBY, Servant to Dr. Caius.
Mrs. FORD [Mistress Ford].
Mrs. PAGE [Mistress Page].
ANNE PAGE [Mistress Anne Page], her Daughter, in love with Fenton.
Mrs. QUICKLY [Mistress Quickly], Servant to Dr. Caius.
Servants to Page, Ford, &c.
[Servant], [Servant 1], [Servant 2]
SCENE, Windsor; and the Parts adjacent.
-- 177 --
MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR.
ACT I.
SCENE I.
Windsor. Before Page's House.
Enter Justice Shallow1 note 11Q0057, Slender, and Sir Hugh Evans.
Shal.
Sir Hugh2 note, persuade me not; I will make a
Star-chamber matter of it: if he were twenty sir John
Falstaffs, he shall not abuse Robert Shallow, esquire.
Slen.
In the county of Gloster, justice of peace, and
coram.
Shal.
Ay, cousin Slender, and cust-alorum.
Slen.
Ay, and ratolorum too; and a gentleman born,
master parson; who writes himself armigero; in any
bill, warrant, quittance, or obligation, armigero.
Shal.
Ay, that I do; and have done any time these
three hundred years.
Slen.
All his successors, gone before him, hath don't;
and all his ancestors, that come after him, may: they
may give the dozen white luces in their coat.
Shal.
It is an old coat.
-- 178 --
Eva.
The dozen white louses do become an old coat
well; it agrees well, passant: it is a familiar beast to
man, and signifies love.
Shal.
The luce is the fresh fish; the salt fish is an
old coat3 note.
Slen.
I may quarter, coz?
Shal.
You may, by marrying.
Eva.
It is marring, indeed, if he quarter it.
Shal.
Not a whit.
Eva.
Yes, per-lady: if he has a quarter of your coat,
there is but three skirts for yourself, in my simple conjectures.
But that is all one: if sir John Falstaff have
committed disparagements unto you, I am of the church,
and will be glad to do my benevolence, to make atonements
and compremises between you.
Shal.
The council shall hear it: it is a riot.
Eva.
It is not meet the council hear a riot; there is
no fear of Got in a riot. The council, look you, shall
desire to hear the fear of Got, and not to hear a riot:
take your vizaments in that.
Shal.
Ha! o' my life, if I were young again the sword
should end it.
Eva.
It is petter that friends is the sword, and end
it: and there is also another device in my prain, which,
peradventure, prings goot discretions with it. There is
Anne Page, which is daughter to master George Page4 note,
which is pretty virginity.
-- 179 --
Slen.
Mistress Anne Page? She has brown hair,
and speaks small, like a woman.
Eva.
It is that fery person for all the orld; as just
as you will desire, and seven hundred pounds of monies,
and gold, and silver, is her grandsire, upon his death's-bed,
(Got deliver to a joyful resurrections!) give, when
she is able to overtake seventeen years old. It were a
goot motion, if we leave our pribbles and prabbles, and
desire a marriage between master Abraham, and mistress
Anne Page.
Slen.
Did her grandsire leave her seven hundred
pound5 note?
Eva.
Ay, and her father is make her a petter penny.
Slen.
I know the young gentlewoman; she has good
gifts.
Eva.
Seven hundred pounds, and possibilities, is good
gifts.
Shal.
Well, let us see honest master Page. Is Falstaff
there?
Eva.
Shall I tell you a lie? I do despise a liar, as I
do despise one that is false; or, as I despise one that is
not true. The knight, sir John, is there; and, I beseech
you, be ruled by your well-willers. I will peat the
door for master Page. [Knocks] What, hoa! Got pless
your house here!
Enter Page.
Page.
Who's there?
Eva.
Here is Got's plessing, and your friend, and
justice Shallow; and here young master Slender, that,
peradventures, shall tell you another tale, if matters
grow to your likings.
-- 180 --
Page.
I am glad to see your worships well. I thank
you for my venison, master Shallow.
Shal.
Master Page, I am glad to see you: much
good do it your good heart. I wished your venison
better; it was ill kill'd.—How doth good mistress
Page?—and I thank you always with my heart, la;
with my heart.
Page.
Sir, I thank you.
Shal.
Sir, I thank you; by yea and no, I do.
Page.
I am glad to see you, good master Slender.
Slen.
How does your fallow greyhound, sir? I heard
say, he was outrun on Cotsall6 note.
Page.
It could not be judg'd, sir.
Slen.
You'll not confess, you'll not confess.
Shal.
That he will not;—'tis your fault, 'tis your
fault.—'Tis a good dog.
Page.
A cur, sir.
Shal.
Sir, he's a good dog, and a fair dog; can there
be more said? he is good, and fair. Is sir John Falstaff
here?
Page.
Sir, he is within; and I would I could do a
good office between you.
Eva.
It is spoke as a Christians ought to speak.
Shal.
He hath wrong'd me, master Page.
Page.
Sir, he doth in some sort confess it.
Shal.
If it be confess'd, it is not redress'd: is not
that so, master Page? He hath wrong'd me; indeed,
he hath;—at a word, he hath;—believe me:—Robert
Shallow, Esquire, saith, he is wrong'd.
Page.
Here comes sir John.
-- 181 --
Enter Sir John Falstaff, Bardolph, Nym, and Pistol.
Fal.
Now, master Shallow; you'll complain of me to
the king7 note?
Shal.
Knight, you have beaten my men, killed my
deer, and broke open my lodge.
Fal.
But not kiss'd your keeper's daughter?
Shal.
Tut, a pin! this shall be answered.
Fal.
I will answer it straight:—I have done all this.
—That is now answer'd.
Shal.
The council shall know this.
Fal.
'Twere better for you, if it were known in counsel8 note:
you'll be laughed at.
Eva.
Pauca verba, sir John; good worts.
Fal.
Good worts? good cabbage9 note.—Slender, I broke
your head; what matter have you against me?
Slen.
Marry, sir, I have matter in my head against
you; and against your coney-catching rascals, Bardolph,
Nym, and Pistol. They carried me to the tavern, and
made me drunk, and afterwards picked my pocket1 note.
-- 182 --
Bard.
You Banbury cheese2 note!
Slen.
Ay, it is no matter.
Pist.
How now, Mephostophilus?
Slen.
Ay, it is no matter.
Nym.
Slice, I say! pauca, pauca; slice! that's my
humour.
Slen.
Where's Simple, my man?—can you tell,
cousin?
Eva.
Peace! I pray you. Now let us understand:
there is three umpires in this matter, as I understand;
that is—master Page, fidelicet, master Page; and there
is myself, fidelicet, myself; and the three party is, lastly
and finally, mine host of the Garter.
Page.
We three, to hear it, and end it between them.
Eva.
Fery goot: I will make a prief of it in my
note-book; and we will afterwards 'ork upon the
cause, with as great discreetly as we can.
Fal.
Pistol!
Pist.
He hears with ears.
Eva.
The tevil and his tam! what phrase is this?
“He hears with ear?” Why, it is affectations.
Fal.
Pistol, did you pick master Slender's purse?
Slen.
Ay, by these gloves3 note, did he, (or I would I
might never come in mine own great chamber again
else) of seven groats in mill-sixpences, and two Edward
shovel-boards4 note, that cost me two shilling and two pence
a-piece of Yed Miller, by these gloves.
Fal.
Is this true, Pistol?
-- 183 --
Eva.
No; it is false, if it is a pick-purse.
Pist.
Ha, thou mountain-foreigner!—Sir John and master mine,
I combat challenge of this lattin bilbo5 note:
Word of denial in thy labras here6 note;
Word of denial: froth and scum, thou liest.
Slen.
By these gloves, then 'twas he.
Nym.
Be avised, sir, and pass good humours. I will
say, “marry trap,” with you, if you run the nuthook's
humour on me; that is the very note of it.
Slen.
By this hat, then he in the red face had it; for
though I cannot remember what I did when you made
me drunk, yet I am not altogether an ass.
Fal.
What say you, Scarlet and John7 note?
Bard.
Why, sir, for my part, I say, the gentleman
had drunk himself out of his five sentences.
Eva.
It is his five senses: fie, what the ignorance is!
Bard.
And being fap8 note, sir, was, as they say, cashier'd;
and so conclusions pass'd the carieres.
Slen.
Ay, you spake in Latin then too; but 'tis no
matter. I'll ne'er be drunk whilst I live again, but in
honest, civil, godly company, for this trick: if I be
drunk, I'll be drunk with those that have the fear of
God, and not with drunken knaves.
Eva.
So Got 'udge me, that is a virtuous mind.
Fal.
You hear all these matters denied, gentlemen;
you hear it.
-- 184 --
Enter Anne Page with Wine; Mistress Ford and Mistress Page following.
Page.
Nay, daughter, carry the wine in; we'll drink
within.
[Exit Anne Page.
Slen.
O heaven! this is mistress Anne Page. 11Q0058
Page.
How now, mistress Ford!
Fal.
Mistress Ford, by my troth, you are very well
met: by your leave, good mistress.
[Kissing her.
Page.
Wife, bid these gentlemen welcome.—Come,
we have a hot venison pasty to dinner: come, gentlemen,
I hope we shall drink down all unkindness.
[Exeunt all but Shal., Slender, and Evans.
Slen.
I had rather than forty shillings, I had my book
of songs and sonnets9 note here:—
Enter Simple.
How now, Simple! Where have you been? I must
wait on myself, must I? You have not the book of
riddles1 note about you, have you?
Sim.
Book of riddles! why, did you not lend it to
Alice Shortcake upon Allhallowmas last, a fortnight
afore Michaelmas?
Shal.
Come, coz; come, coz; we stay for you. A
word with you, coz; marry, this, coz: there is, as 'twere,
a tender, a kind of tender, made afar off by sir Hugh
here: do you understand me?
-- 185 --
Slen.
Ay, sir, you shall find me reasonable: if it be
so, I shall do that that is reason.
Shal.
Nay, but understand me.
Slen.
So I do, sir.
Eva.
Give ear to his motions, master Slender. I will
description the matter to you, if you be capacity of it.
Slen.
Nay, I will do as my cousin Shallow says. I
pray you, pardon me; he's a justice of peace in his
country, simple though I stand here.
Eva.
But that is not the question: the question is
concerning your marriage.
Shal.
Ay, there's the point, sir.
Eva.
Marry, is it, the very point of it; to mistress
Anne Page.
Slen.
Why, if it be so, I will marry her upon any
reasonable demands.
Eva.
But can you affection the 'oman? Let us command
to know that of your mouth, or of your lips; 11Q0059 for
divers philosophers hold, that the lips is parcel of the
mouth: therefore, precisely, can you carry your good
will to the maid?
Shal.
Cousin Abraham Slender, can you love her?
Slen.
I hope, sir, I will do, as it shall become one
that would do reason.
Eva.
Nay, Got's lords and his ladies, you must speak
possitable, if you can carry her your desires towards
her.
Shal.
That you must. Will you, upon good dowry,
marry her?
Slen.
I will do a greater thing than that, upon your
request, cousin, in any reason.
Shal.
Nay, conceive me, conceive me, sweet coz:
what I do, is to pleasure you, coz. Can you love the
maid?
Slen.
I will marry her, sir, at your request; but if
there be no great love in the beginning, yet heaven
may decrease it upon better acquaintance, when we are
-- 186 --
married, and have more occasion to know one another:
I hope, upon familiarity will grow more contempt2 note 11Q0060:
but if you say, “marry her,” I will marry her; that I
am freely dissolved, and dissolutely.
Eva.
It is a fery discretion answer; save, the fault3 note
is in the 'ort dissolutely: the 'ort is, according to our
meaning, resolutely.—His meaning is good.
Shal.
Ay, I think my cousin meant well.
Slen.
Ay, or else I would I might be hanged, la.
Re-enter Anne Page.
Shal.
Here comes fair mistress Anne.—Would I
were young, for your sake, mistress Anne!
Anne.
The dinner is on the table; my father desires
your worships' company.
Shal.
I will wait on him, fair mistress Anne.
Eva.
Od's plessed will! I will not be absence at the
grace.
[Exeunt Shallow and Sir H. Evans.
Anne.
Will't please your worship to come in, sir?
Slen.
No, I thank you, forsooth, heartily; I am very
well.
Anne.
The dinner attends you, sir.
Slen.
I am not a-hungry, I thank you, forsooth.—Go,
sirrah, for all you are my man, go, wait upon my cousin
Shallow. [Exit Simple.] A justice of peace sometime
may be beholding to his friend for a man.—I keep but
three men and a boy yet, till my mother be dead; but
what though? yet I live like a poor gentleman born.
Anne.
I may not go in without your worship: they
will not sit, till you come.
Slen.
I'faith, I'll eat nothing; I thank you as much
as though I did.
-- 187 --
Anne.
I pray you, sir, walk in.
Slen.
I had rather walk here, I thank you. I bruised
my shin the other day with playing at sword and dagger
with a master of fence, (three veneys for a dish of
stewed prunes) and, by my troth, I cannot abide the
smell of hot meat since. Why do your dogs bark so?
be there bears i' the town? 11Q0061
Anne.
I think, there are, sir; I heard them talked
of.
Slen.
I love the sport well; but I shall as soon quarrel
at it as any man in England. You are afraid, if you
see the bear loose, are you not?
Anne.
Ay, indeed, sir.
Slen.
That's meat and drink to me, now: I have seen
Sackerson loose4 note, twenty times, and have taken him by
the chain; but, I warrant you, the women have so
cried and shriek'd at it, that it pass'd: but women,
indeed, cannot abide 'em; they are very ill-favoured
rough things.
Re-enter Page.
Page.
Come, gentle master Slender, come; we stay
for you.
Slen.
I'll eat nothing, I thank you, sir.
Page.
By cock and pye5 note, you shall not choose, sir.
Come, come.
Slen.
Nay; pray you, lead the way.
Page.
Come on, sir.
Slen.
Mistress Anne, yourself shall go first.
Anne.
Not I, sir; pray you, keep on.
Slen.
Truly, I will not go first: truly, la, I will not
do you that wrong.
-- 188 --
Anne.
I pray you, sir.
Slen.
I'll rather be unmannerly, than troublesome.
You do yourself wrong, indeed, la.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
The Same.
Enter Sir Hugh Evans and Simple.
Eva.
Go your ways, and ask of Doctor Caius' house,
which is the way; and there dwells one mistress
Quickly, which is in the manner of his nurse, or his
dry nurse, or his cook, or his laundry, his washer, and
his wringer.
Sim.
Well, sir.
Eva.
Nay, it is petter yet.—Give her this letter; for
it is a 'oman that altogether's acquaintance with mistress
Anne Page: and the letter is, to desire and require
her to solicit your master's desires to mistress Anne
Page: I pray you, be gone. I will make an end of my
dinner: there's pippins and cheese to come.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
A Room in the Garter Inn.
Enter Falstaff, Host, Bardolph, Nym, Pistol, and Robin.
Fal.
Mine host of the Garter!
Host.
What says my bully-rook? Speak scholarly,
and wisely.
Fal.
Truly, mine host, I must turn away some of my
followers.
Host.
Discard, bully Hercules; cashier: let them
wag; trot, trot.
-- 189 --
Fal.
I sit at ten pounds a week.
Host.
Thou'rt an emperor, Cæsar, Keisar, and Pheazar6 note.
I will entertain Bardolph; he shall draw, he
shall tap: said I well, bully Hector?
Fal.
Do so, good mine host.
Host.
I have spoke; let him follow.—Let me see
thee froth, and lime7 note: I am at a word; follow.
[Exit Host.
Fal.
Bardolph, follow him. A tapster is a good
trade: an old cloak makes a new jerkin; a withered
servingman, a fresh tapster. Go; adieu.
Bard.
It is a life that I have desired. I will thrive.
[Exit Bard.
Pist.
O base Gongarian wight! wilt thou the spigot
wield8 note
?
Nym.
He was gotten in drink: is not the humour
conceited? His mind is not heroic, and there's the
humour of it9 note.
Fal.
I am glad I am so acquit of this tinder-box:
his thefts were too open; his filching was like an unskilful
singer, he kept not time.
Nym.
The good humour is to steal at a minute's rest 11Q0062.
-- 190 --
Pist.
Convey the wise it call10 note. Steal? foh! a fico
for the phrase!
Fal.
Well, sirs, I am almost out at heels.
Pist.
Why then, let kibes ensue.
Fal.
There is no remedy; I must coney-catch, I
must shift.
Pist.
Young ravens must have food.
Fal.
Which of you know Ford of this town?
Pist.
I ken the wight: he is of substance good.
Fal.
My honest lads, I will tell you what I am about.
Pist.
Two yards, and more.
Fal.
No quips now, Pistol: indeed I am in the waist
two yards about; but I am now about no waste; I am
about thrift. Briefly, I do mean to make love to
Ford's wife: I spy entertainment in her; she discourses,
she carves, she gives the leer of invitation 11Q0063: I can construe
the action of her familiar style; and the hardest
voice of her behaviour, to be Englished rightly, is, “I
am sir John Falstaff's.”
Pist.
He hath studied her will1 note, and translated her
will; out of honesty into English.
Nym.
The anchor is deep: will that humour pass?
Fal.
Now, the report goes, she has all the rule of her
husband's purse; he hath legions of angels 11Q0064.
Pist.
As many devils entertain, and “To her, boy,”
say I.
Nym.
The humour rises; it is good: humour me the
angels.
Fal.
I have writ me here a letter to her; and here
another to Page's wife, who even now gave me good
eyes too, examin'd my parts with most judicious œiliads2 note:
-- 191 --
sometimes the beam of her view gilded my foot, sometimes
my portly belly.
Pist.
Then did the sun on dunghill shine.
Nym.
I thank thee for that humour.
Fal.
O! she did so course o'er my exteriors with such
a greedy intention, that the appetite of her eye did
seem to scorch me up like a burning glass. Here's
another letter to her: she bears the purse too; she is a
region in Guiana, all gold and bounty 11Q0065. I will be cheater
to them both3 note, and they shall be exchequers to me:
they shall be my East and West Indies, and I will trade
to them both. Go, bear thou this letter to mistress
Page; and thou this to mistress Ford. We will thrive,
lads, we will thrive.
Pist.
Shall I sir Pandarus of Troy become,
And by my side wear steel? then, Lucifer take all!
Nym.
I will run no base humour: here, take the
humour-letter. I will keep the 'haviour of reputation.
Fal.
Hold, sirrah, [to Robin,] bear you these letters tightly:
Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores.—
Rogues, hence! avaunt! vanish like hailstones, go;
Trudge, plod away o' the hoof; seek shelter, pack!
Falstaff will learn the humour of this age4 note 11Q0066,
French thrift, you rogues: myself, and skirted page.
[Exeunt Falstaff and Robin.
Pist.
Let vultures gripe thy guts! for gourd, and fullam holds,
And high and low5 note
beguile the rich and poor.
-- 192 --
Tester I'll have in pouch, when thou shalt lack,
Base Phrygian Turk.
Nym.
I have operations6 note, which be humours of revenge.
Pist.
Wilt thou revenge?
Nym.
By welkin, and her star. 11Q0067
Pist.
With wit, or steel?
Nym.
With both the humours, I:
I will discuss the humour of this love to Page7 note.
Pist.
And I to Ford8 note shall eke unfold,
How Falstaff, varlet vile,
His dove will prove, his gold will hold,
And his soft couch defile.
Nym.
My humour shall not cool: I will incense
Page to deal with poison; I will possess him with yellowness,
for the revolt of mine1 note is dangerous: that is
my true humour.
Pist.
Thou art the Mars of malcontents: I second
thee; troop on.
[Exeunt.
-- 193 --
SCENE IV.
A Room in Dr. Caius's House.
Enter Mrs. Quickly, Simple, and Rugby.
Quick.
What, John Rugby!—I pray thee, go to the
casement, and see if you can see my master, master
Doctor Caius, coming: if he do, i' faith, and find any
body in the house, here will be an old abusing2 note of God's
patience, and the king's English.
Rug.
I'll go watch.
[Exit Rugby.
Quick.
Go; and we'll have a posset for't soon at
night, in faith, at the latter end of a sea-coal fire. An
honest, willing, kind fellow, as ever servant shall come
in house withal; and, I warrant you, no tell-tale, nor no
breed-bate: his worst fault is, that he is given to prayer;
he is something peevish that way3 note, but nobody but has
his fault; but let that pass. Peter Simple, you say
your name is?
Sim.
Ay, for fault of a better.
Quick.
And master Slender's your master?
Sim.
Ay, forsooth.
Quick.
Does he not wear a great round beard, like a
glover's paring-knife?
Sim.
No, forsooth: he hath but a little wee face,
with a little yellow beard; a Cain-coloured beard4 note.
Quick.
A softly-sprighted man, is he not?
-- 194 --
Sim.
Ay, forsooth; but he is as tall as man5 note of his
hands, as any is between this and his head: he hath
fought with a warrener.
Quick.
How say you?—O! I should remember him:
does he not hold up his head, as it were, and strut in
his gait?
Sim.
Yes, indeed, does he.
Quick.
Well, heaven send Anne Page no worse fortune!
Tell master parson Evans, I will do what I can
for your master: Anne is a good girl, and I wish—
Re-enter Rugby.
Rug.
Out, alas! here comes my master.
Quick.
We shall all be shent6 note. note Run in here, good
young man; go into this closet. [Shuts Simple in the
Closet.] He will not stay long.—What, John Rugby!
John, what, John, I say!—Go, John, go inquire for my
master; I doubt, he be not well, that he comes not
home:—“and down, down, adown-a,” &c.
[Sings.
Enter Doctor Caius.
Caius.
Vat is you sing? I do not like dese toys.
Pray you, go and vetch me in my closet un boitier
verd7 note; a box, a green-a box: do intend vat I speak? a
green-a box.
Quick.
Ay, forsooth; I'll fetch it you. [Aside.] I am
glad he went not in himself: if he had found the young
man, he would have been horn-mad.
Caius.
Fe, fe, fe, fe! ma foi, il fait fort chaud. Je
m'en vais à la cour,—la grande affaire.
-- 195 --
Quick.
Is it this, sir?
Caius.
Ouy; mette le au mon pocket; dépêche, quickly.
—Vere is dat knave Rugby?
Quick.
What, John Rugby! John!
Rug.
Here, sir.
Caius.
You are John Rugby, and you are Jack Rugby:
come, take-a your rapier, and come after my heel to de
court.
Rug.
'Tis ready, sir, here in the porch.
Caius.
By my trot, I tarry too long. — Od's me!
Qu'ay j'oublié? dere is some simples in my closet, dat I
vill not for the varld I shall leave behind.
Quick. [Aside.]
Ah me! he'll find the young man
there, and be mad.
Caius.
O diable, diable! vat is in my closet?—Villainy!
larron! [Pulling Simple out.] Rugby, my rapier!
Quick.
Good master, be content.
Caius.
Verefore shall I be content-a?
Quick.
The young man is an honest man.
Caius.
Vat shall the honest man do in my closet?
dere is no honest man dat shall come in my closet.
Quick.
I beseech you, be not so phlegmatic; hear the
truth of it: he came of an errand to me from parson
Hugh.
Caius.
Vell.
Sim.
Ay, forsooth, to desire her to—
Quick.
Peace, I pray you.
Caius.
Peace-a your tongue!—Speak-a your tale.
Sim.
To desire this honest gentlewoman, your maid,
to speak a good word to mistress Anne Page for my
master, in the way of marriage.
Quick.
This is all, indeed, la; but I'll ne'er put my
finger in the fire, and need not.
Caius.
Sir Hugh send-a you?—Rugby, baillez me
some paper: tarry you a littel-a while.
[Writes.
Quick.
I am glad he is so quiet: if he had been thoroughly
moved, you should have heard him so loud, and
-- 196 --
so melancholy.—But notwithstanding, man, I'll do you
your master what good I can: and the very yea and
the no is, the French doctor, my master,—I may call
him my master, look you, for I keep his house; and I
wash, wring, brew, bake, scour, dress meat and drink,
make the beds, and do all myself;—
Sim.
'Tis a great charge, to come under one body's
hand.
Quick.
Are you avis'd o' that? you shall find it a
great charge: and to be up early and down late;—but
notwithstanding, to tell you in your ear, (I would have
no words of it) my master himself is in love with mistress
Anne Page: but notwithstanding that, I know
Anne's mind; that's neither here nor there.
Caius.
You jack'nape, give-a dis letter to sir Hugh;
by gar, it is a shallenge: I vill cut his troat in de park;
and I vill teach a scurvy jack-a-nape priest to meddle
or make.—You may be gone; it is not good you tarry
here:—by gar, I vill cut all his two stones; by gar, he
shall not have a stone to trow at his dog.
[Exit Simple.
Quick.
Alas! he speaks but for his friend.
Caius.
It is no matter-a for dat:—do not you tell-a
me, dat I shall have Anne Page for myself?—By gar, I
vill kill de Jack priest; and I have appointed mine
Host of de Jarretière to measure our weapon.—By gar,
I vill myself have Anne Page.
Quick.
Sir, the maid loves you, and all shall be
well. We must give folks leave to prate: what, the
good year8 note!
Caius.
Rugby, come to the court vit me.—By gar, if
I have not Anne Page, I shall turn your head out of
my door.—Follow my heels, Rugby.
[Exeunt Caius and Rugby.
-- 197 --
Quick.
You shall have An fool's-head of your own.
No, I know Anne's mind for that: never a woman in
Windsor knows more of Anne's mind than I do, nor
can do more than I do with her, I thank heaven.
Fent. [Within.]
Who's within there, ho?
Quick.
Who's there, I trow? Come near the house,
I pray you.
Enter Fenton.
Fent.
How now, good woman! how dost thou?
Quick.
The better, that it pleases your good worship
to ask.
Fent.
What news? how does pretty mistress Anne?
Quick.
In truth, sir, and she is pretty, and honest,
and gentle; and one that is your friend, I can tell you
that by the way; I praise heaven for it.
Fent.
Shall I do any good, think'st thou? Shall I
not lose my suit?
Quick.
Troth, sir, all is in his hands above: but notwithstanding,
master Fenton, I'll be sworn on a book,
she loves you.—Have not your worship a wart above
your eye?
Fent.
Yes, marry, have I; what of that?
Quick.
Well, thereby hangs a tale.—Good faith, it
is such another Nan;—but, I detest, an honest maid as
ever broke bread:—we had an hour's talk of that wart.
—I shall never laugh but in that maid's company;—
but, indeed, she is given too much to allicholly and
musing. But for you—well, go to.
Fent.
Well, I shall see her to-day. Hold, there's
money for thee; let me have thy voice in my behalf:
if thou seest her before me, commend me—
Quick.
Will I? i'faith, that we will9 note; and I will tell
-- 198 --
your worship more of the wart, the next time we have
confidence, and of other wooers.
Fent.
Well, farewell; I am in great haste now.
[Exit.
Quick.
Farewell to your worship.—Truly, an honest
gentleman; but Anne loves him not, for I know Anne's
mind as well as another does:—Out upon't! what have
I forgot?
[Exit.
ACT II.
SCENE I.
Before Pages's house.
Enter Mistress Page, with a Letter.
Mrs. Page.
What! have I 'scaped love-letters10 note in the
holy-day 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 love
use reason for his precisian 11Q0069, 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.”
-- 199 --
What a Herod of Jewry is this!—O wicked, wicked,
world!—one that is well nigh worn to pieces with age,
to show himself a young gallant! What an unweighed
behaviour hath this Flemish drunkard picked (with the
devil's 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 fat men1 note. How shall I be revenged on him?
for revenged I will be, as sure as his guts are made of
puddings.
Enter Mistress Ford.
Mrs. Ford.
Mistress Page! trust me, I was going to
your house.
Mrs. Page.
And, trust me, I was coming to you.
You look very ill.
Mrs. Ford.
Nay, I'll ne'er believe that: I have to
show to the contrary.
Mrs. Page.
Faith, but you do, in my mind.
Mrs. Ford.
Well, I do then; yet, I say, I could
show you to the contrary. O, mistress Page! give me
some counsel.
Mrs. Page.
What's the matter, woman?
Mrs. Ford.
O woman! if it were not for one trifling
respect, I could come to such honour.
Mrs. Page.
Hang the trifle, woman; take the honour.
What is it?—dispense with trifles;—what is it?
Mrs. Ford.
If I would but go to hell for an eternal
moment or so, I could be knighted.
Mrs. Page.
What?—thou liest.—Sir Alice Ford!—
-- 200 --
These knights will hack; and so, thou shouldst not alter
the article of thy gentry2 note.
Mrs. Ford.
We burn day-light:—here, 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,
praised 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 together, than the hundredth psalm to the
tune of “Green Sleeves3 note.” What tempest, I trow,
threw this whale, with so many tuns of oil in his belly,
ashore at Windsor? How shall I be revenged 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?
Mrs. Page.
Letter for letter, but that the name of
Page and Ford differs!—To thy great comfort in this
mystery of ill opinions, here's 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) and these are of the second edition. He will
print them, out of doubt; for he cares not what he
-- 201 --
puts into the press, when he would put us two: I had
rather be a giantess, and lie under mount Pelion.
Well, I will find you twenty lascivious turtles, ere one
chaste man.
Mrs. Ford.
Why, this is the very same; the very
hand, the very words. What doth he think of us?
Mrs. Page.
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, sure, unless he know some strain in me, that I
know not myself, he would never have boarded me in
this fury.
Mrs. Ford.
Boarding call you it? I'll be sure to
keep him above deck.
Mrs. Page.
So will I: if he come under my hatches,
I'll never to sea again. Let's be revenged 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 pawned his horses to mine Host of
the Garter.
Mrs. Ford.
Nay, I will consent to act any villainy
against him, that may not sully the chariness of our
honesty. O, that my husband saw this letter! it would
give eternal food to his jealousy.
Mrs. Page.
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.
Mrs. Ford.
You are the happier woman.
Mrs. Page.
Let's consult together against this greasy
knight. Come hither.
[They retire.
Enter Ford, Pistol, Page, and Nym.
Ford.
Well, I hope, it be not so.
Pist.
Hope is a curtail dog in some affairs:
Sir John affects thy wife.
-- 202 --
Ford.
Why, sir, my wife is not young.
Pist.
He woos both high and low, both rich and poor,
Both young and old, one with another, Ford.
He loves the gally-mawfry: Ford, perpend.
Ford.
Love my wife?
Pist.
With liver burning hot: prevent, or go thou,
Like sir Actæon he, with Ring-wood at thy heels.
O! odious is the name.
Ford.
What name, sir?
Pist.
The horn, I say. Farewell:
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 11Q0070.
[Exit Pistol.
Ford.
I will be patient: I will find out this.
Nym.
And this is true; [to Page.] I like not the
humour of lying. He hath wronged me in some humours:
I should have borne the humoured 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. Adieu.
[Exit Nym.
Page.
The humour of it, quoth 'a! here's a fellow
frights English out of his wits4 note.
Ford.
I will seek out Falstaff.
Page.
I never heard such a drawling-affecting rogue5 note.
Ford.
If I do find it, well.
-- 203 --
Page.
I will not believe such a Cataian6 note, though the
priest o' the town commended him for a true man.
Ford.
'Twas a good sensible fellow: well.
Page.
How now, Meg!
Mrs. Page.
Whither go you, George?—Hark you.
Mrs. Ford.
How now, sweet Frank! why art thou
melancholy?
Ford.
I melancholy! I am not melancholy.—Get you
home, go.
Mrs. Ford.
'Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy
head now.—Will you go, mistress Page?
Mrs. Page.
Have with you.—You'll come to dinner,
George?—[Aside to Mrs. Ford.] Look, who comes
yonder: she shall be our messenger to this paltry
knight.
Enter Mrs. Quickly.
Mrs. Ford.
Trust me, I thought on her: she'll fit it.
Mrs. Page.
You are come to see my daughter Anne?
Quick.
Ay, forsooth; and, I pray, how does good
mistress Anne?
Mrs. Page.
Go in with us, and see: we have an
hour's talk with you.
[Exeunt Mrs. Page, Mrs. Ford, and Mrs. Quickly.
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
-- 204 --
towards our wives, are a yoke 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
lie at the Garter?
Page.
Ay, marry, does he. If he should intend this
voyage towards my wife, I would turn her loose to
him; and what he gets more of her than sharp words,
let it lie on my head.
Ford.
I do not misdoubt my wife, but I would be
loath to turn them together. A man may be too confident:
I would have nothing lie on my head. I cannot
be thus satisfied.
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 11Q0071.
Host.
How now, bully-rook! thou'rt a gentleman.
Cavaliero-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, cavaliero-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.
Host.
What say'st thou, my bully-rook?
[They go aside.
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 them contrary places; for,
believe me, I hear, the parson is no jester. Hark, I
will tell you what our sport shall be.
-- 205 --
Host.
Hast thou no suit against my knight, my guest-cavalier?
Ford.
None, I protest7 note: but I'll give you a pottle of
burnt sack to give me recourse to him, and tell him,
my name is Brook8 note; only for a jest.
Host.
My hand, bully: thou shalt have egress and
regress; said I well? and thy name shall be Brook. It
is a merry knight.—Will you go, An-heires 11Q00729 note?
Shal.
Have with you, mine host.
Page.
I have heard, the Frenchman hath good skill
in his rapier10 note
.
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 scold
than fight. 11Q0073
[Exeunt Host, Shallow, and Page.
-- 206 --
Ford.
Though Page be a secure fool, and stands so
firmly on his wife's frailty, 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 farther 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.
SCENE II.
A Room in the Garter Inn.
Enter Falstaff and Pistol.
Fal.
I will not lend thee a penny.
Pist.
Why, then the world's mine oyster,
Which I with sword will open1 note.—
Fal.
Not a penny. I have been content, sir, you
should lay my countenance to pawn: I have grated
upon my good friends for three reprieves for you and
your coach-fellow, Nym 11Q0074; or else you had looked
through the grate, like a gemini of baboons. I am
damned in hell for swearing to gentlemen, my friends,
you were good soldiers, and tall fellows: and when
mistress Bridget lost the handle of her fan, I took't
upon mine honour thou hadst it not.
Pist.
Didst thou not share? hadst thou not fifteen pence?
Fal.
Reason, you rogue, reason: think'st thou, I'll
endanger my soul gratis? At a word, hang no more
about me, I am no gibbet for you:—go.—A short knife
and a throng2 note:—to your manor of Pickt-hatch3 note, go.—
-- 207 --
You'll not bear a letter for me, you rogue!—you stand
upon your honour!—Why, thou unconfinable baseness,
it is as much as I can do, to keep the terms of my
honour precise. I, I, I myself sometimes, leaving the
fear of heaven on the left hand, and hiding mine honour
in my necessity, am fain to shuffle, to hedge, and to
lurch; and yet you, rogue, will ensconce your rags,
your cat-a-mountain looks, your red-lattice phrases4 note,
and your bold-beating oaths, under the shelter of your
honour! You will not do it, you?
Pist.
I do relent: what would'st thou more of man?
Enter Robin.
Rob.
Sir, here's a woman would speak with you.
Fal.
Let her approach.
Enter Mistress Quickly.
Quick.
Give your worship good-morrow.
Fal.
Good-morrow, good wife.
Quick.
Not so, an't please your worship.
Fal.
Good maid, then.
Quick.
I'll be sworn; as my mother was, the first
hour I was born.
Fal.
I do believe the swearer. What with me?
Quick.
Shall I vouchsafe your worship a word or two?
Fal.
Two thousand, fair woman; and I'll vouchsafe
thee the hearing.
Quick.
There is one mistress Ford, sir:—I pray,
come a little nearer this ways.—I myself dwell with
master Doctor Caius.
Fal.
Well, on: Mistress Ford, you say,—
-- 208 --
Quick.
Your worship says very true:—I pray your
worship, come a little nearer this ways.
Fal.
I warrant thee, nobody hears:—mine own
people, mine own people.
Quick.
Are they so? Heaven bless them, and make
them his servants5 note!
Fal.
Well: Mistress Ford;—what of her?
Quick.
Why, sir, she's a good creature. Lord, lord!
your worship's a wanton: well, heaven forgive you, and
all of us, I pray!
Fal.
Mistress Ford;—come, mistress Ford,—
Quick.
Marry, this is the short and the long of it.
You have brought her into such a canaries, as 'tis wonderful:
the best courtier of them all, when the court
lay at Windsor, could never have brought her to such
a canary; yet there has been knights, and lords, and
gentlemen, with their coaches; I warrant you, coach
after coach, letter after letter, gift after gift; smelling
so sweetly, all musk, and so rushling, I warrant you,
in silk and gold; and in such alligant terms; and in
such wine and sugar of the best, and the fairest, that
would have won any woman's heart, and, I warrant you,
they could never get an eye-wink of her.—I had myself
twenty angels given me this morning; 11Q0075 but I defy all
angels, (in any such sort, as they say,) but in the way of
honesty:—and, I warrant you, they could never get her
so much as sip on a cup with the proudest of them all;
and yet there has been earls, nay, which is more, pensioners;
but, I warrant you, all is one with her.
Fal.
But what says she to me? be brief, my good
she Mercury.
Quick.
Marry, she hath received your letter, for the
-- 209 --
which she thanks you a thousand times; and she gives
you to notify, that her husband will be absence from
his house between ten and eleven.
Fal.
Ten and eleven?
Quick.
Ay, forsooth; and then you may come and
see the picture, she says, that you wot of: master
Ford, her husband, will be from home. Alas! the
sweet woman leads an ill life with him; he's a very
jealousy man; she leads a very frampold6 note life with him,
good heart.
Fal.
Ten and eleven.—Woman, commend me to
her; I will not fail her.
Quick.
Why, you say well. But I have another
messenger to your worship: mistress Page hath her
hearty commendations to you too;—and let me tell
you in your ear, she's as fartuous a civil modest wife,
and one (I tell you) that will not miss you morning nor
evening prayer, as any is in Windsor, whoe'er be the
other: and she bade me tell your worship, that her
husband is seldom from home, but she hopes there
will come a time. I never knew a woman so dote
upon a man: surely, I think you have charms, la; yes,
in truth.
Fal.
Not I, I assure thee; setting the attraction of
my good parts aside, I have no other charms.
Quick.
Blessing on your heart for't!
Fal.
But, I pray thee, tell me this: has Ford's wife,
and Page's wife, acquainted each other how they love
me?
Quick.
That were a jest, indeed!—they have not so
little grace, I hope:—that were a trick, indeed! But
mistress Page would desire you to send her your little
page, of all loves7 note: her husband has a marvellous infection
-- 210 --
to the little page; and, truly, master Page is an
honest man. Never a wife in Windsor leads a better
life than she does: do what she will, say what she will,
take all, pay all, go to bed when she list, rise when she
list, all is as she will; and, truly, she deserves it, for if
there be a kind woman in Windsor, she is one. You
must send her your page; no remedy.
Fal.
Why, I will.
Quick.
Nay, but do so, then: and, look you, he may
come and go between you both; and, in any case, have
a nayword8 note, that you may know one another's mind,
and the boy never need to understand any thing: for
'tis not good that children should know any wickedness;
old folks, you know, have discretion, as they say,
and know the world.
Fal.
Fare thee well: commend me to them both.
There's my purse; I am yet thy debtor.—Boy, go along
with this woman.—This news distracts me.
[Exeunt Quickly and Robin.
Pist.
This punk is one of Cupid's carriers9 note.—
Clap on more sails; pursue, up with your fights:
Give fire! She is my prize, or ocean whelm them all!
[Exit Pistol.
Fal.
Say'st thou so, old Jack? go thy ways; I'll
make more of thy old body than I have done. Will
they yet look after thee? Wilt thou, after the expence
of so much money, be now a gainer? Good body, I
thank thee: let them say, 'tis grossly done; so it be
fairly done, no matter.
-- 211 --
Enter Bardolph.
Bard.
Sir John, there's one master Brook below
would fain speak with you, and be acquainted with
you; and hath sent your worship a morning's draught
of sack.
Fal.
Brook, is his name?
Bard.
Ay, sir.
Fal.
Call him in; [Exit Bardolph.] Such Brooks
are welcome to me, that o'erflow such liquor. Ah! ha!
mistress Ford and mistress Page, have I encompassed
you? go to; via1 note
!
Re-enter Bardolph, with Ford disguised.
Ford.
Bless you, sir.
Fal.
And you, sir: would you speak with me?
Ford.
I make bold, to press with so little preparation
upon you.
Fal.
You're welcome. What's your will?—Give us
leave, drawer.
[Exit Bardolph.
Ford.
Sir, I am a gentleman that have spent much:
my name is Brook.
Fal.
Good master Brook, I desire more acquaintance
of you.
Ford.
Good sir John, I sue for yours: not to charge
you, for I must let you understand, I think myself in
better plight for a lender than you are; the which
hath something embolden'd me to this unseasoned
intrusion, for, they say, if money go before all ways
do lie open.
Fal.
Money is a good soldier, sir, and will on.
-- 212 --
Ford.
Troth, and I have a bag of money here
troubles me: if you will help to bear it, sir John, take
all, or half, for easing me of the carriage. 11Q0076
Fal.
Sir, I know not how I may deserve to be your
porter.
Ford.
I will tell you, sir, if you will give me the
hearing.
Fal.
Speak, good master Brook; I shall be glad to
be your servant.
Ford.
Sir, I hear you are a scholar,—I will be brief
with you,—and you have been a man long known to
me, though I had never so good means, as desire, to
make myself acquainted with you. I shall discover a
thing to you, wherein I must very much lay open mine
own imperfection; but, good sir John, as you have one
eye upon my follies, as you hear them unfolded, turn
another into the register of your own, that I may pass
with a reproof the easier, sith you yourself know, how
easy it is to be such an offender.
Fal.
Very well, sir; proceed.
Ford.
There is a gentlewoman in this town, her
husband's name is Ford.
Fal.
Well, sir.
Ford.
I have long loved her, and, I protest to you,
bestowed much on her; followed her with a doting
observance; engrossed opportunities to meet her; fee'd
every slight occasion, that could but niggardly give me
sight of her: not only bought many presents to give
her, but have given largely to many, to know what she
would have given. Briefly, I have pursued her, as love
hath pursued me, which hath been, on the wing of all
occasions: but whatsoever I have merited, either in
my mind, or in my means, meed, I am sure, I have
received none, unless experience be a jewel; that I
have purchased at an infinite rate, and that hath
taught me to say this:
-- 213 --
Love like a shadow flies, when substance love pursues;
Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues2 note.
Fal.
Have you received no promise of satisfaction at
her hands?
Ford.
Never.
Fal.
Have you importuned her to such a purpose?
Ford.
Never.
Fal.
Of what quality was your love then?
Ford.
Like a fair house, built upon another man's
ground; so that I have lost my edifice, by mistaking
the place where I erected it.
Fal.
To what purpose have you unfolded this to me?
Ford.
When I have told you that, I have told you
all. Some say, that though she appear honest to me,
yet in other places she enlargeth her mirth so far, that
there is shrewd construction made of her. Now, sir
John, here is the heart of my purpose: you are a gentleman
of excellent breeding, admirable discourse, of
great admittance, authentic in your place and person,
generally allowed for your many war-like, court-like,
and learned preparations.
Fal.
O, sir!
Ford.
Believe it, for you know it.—There is money;
spend it, spend it: spend more; spend all I have, only
give me so much of your time in exchange of it, as to
lay an amiable siege to the honesty of this Ford's wife:
use your art of wooing, win her to consent to you; if
any man may, you may as soon as any.
Fal.
Would it apply well to the vehemency of your
affection, that I should win what you would enjoy?
Methinks, you prescribe to yourself very preposterously.
Ford.
O! understand my drift. She dwells so securely
-- 214 --
on the excellency of her honour, that the folly
of my soul dares not present itself: 11Q0077 she is too bright to
be looked against. Now, could I come to her with
any detection in my hand, my desires had instance and
argument to commend themselves; I could drive her,
then, from the ward of her purity, her reputation, her
marriage vow, and a thousand other her defences, which
now are too too strongly embattled against me. What
say you to't, sir John?
Fal.
Master Brook, I will first make bold with your
money; next, give me your hand; and last, as I am a
gentleman, you shall, if you will, enjoy Ford's wife.
Ford.
O good sir!
Fal.
I say you shall3 note.
Ford.
Want no money, sir John; you shall want
none.
Fal.
Want no mistress Ford, master Brook; you shall
want none. I shall be with her (I may tell you) by her
own appointment; even as you came in to me, her
assistant, or go-between, parted from me: I say, I shall
be with her between ten and eleven; for at that time
the jealous rascally knave, her husband, will be forth.
Come you to me at night; you shall know how I speed.
Ford.
I am blest in your acquaintance. Do you
know Ford, sir?
Fal.
Hang him, poor cuckoldly knave! I know him
not.—Yet I wrong him, to call him poor: they say,
the jealous wittolly knave hath masses of money, for
the which his wife seems to me well-favoured. I will
use her as the key of the cuckoldly rogue's coffer, and
there's my harvest-home.
Ford.
I would you knew Ford, sir, that you might
avoid him, if you saw him.
Fal.
Hang him, mechanical salt-butter rogue! I will
-- 215 --
stare him out of his wits; I will awe him with my
cudgel: it shall hang like a meteor o'er the cuckold's
horns: master Brook, thou shalt know I will predominate
over the peasant, and thou shalt lie with his wife.
—Come to me soon at night.—Ford's a knave, and I
will aggravate his style; thou, master Brook, shalt know
him for a knave and cuckold.—Come to me soon at
night.
[Exit.
Ford.
What a damned Epicurean rascal is this!—
My heart is ready to crack with impatience.—Who
says, this is improvident jealousy? my wife hath sent
to him, the hour is fixed, the match is made. Would
any man have thought this?—See the hell of having a
false woman! my bed shall be abused, my coffers ransacked,
my reputation gnawn at; and I shall not only
receive this villainous wrong, but stand under the adoption
of abominable terms, and by him that does me this
wrong. Terms! names!—Amaimon sounds well; Lucifer,
well; Barbason, well; yet they are devils' additions,
the names of fiends: but cuckold! wittol, cuckold!
the devil himself hath not such a name. Page is
an ass, a secure ass; he will trust his wife, he will not
be jealous: I will rather trust a Fleming with my butter,
parson Hugh the Welchman with my cheese, an
Irishman with my aqua-vitæ bottle, or a thief to walk
my ambling gelding, than my wife with herself: then
she plots, then she ruminates, then she devises; and
what they think in their hearts they may effect, they
will break their hearts but they will effect. Heaven be
praised for my jealousy!—Eleven o'clock the hour: I
will prevent this, detect my wife, be revenged on Falstaff,
and laugh at Page. I will about it; better three
hours too soon, than a minute too late. Fie, fie, fie!
cuckold! cuckold! cuckold!
[Exit.
-- 216 --
SCENE III.
Windsor Park.
Enter Caius and Rugby.
Caius.
Jack Rugby!
Rug.
Sir.
Caius.
Vat is de clock, Jack?
Rug.
'Tis past the hour, sir, that sir Hugh promised
to meet.
Caius.
By gar, he has save his soul, dat he is no
come: he has pray his Pible vell, dat he is no come.
By gar, Jack Rugby, he is dead already, if he be come.
Rug.
He is wise, sir; he knew your worship would
kill him, if he came.
Caius.
By gar, de herring is no dead, so as I vill kill
him. Take your rapier, Jack; I vill tell you how I vill
kill him.
Rug.
Alas, sir! I cannot fence. 11Q0078
Caius.
Villainy, take your rapier.
Rug.
Forbear; here's company.
Enter Host, Shallow, Slender, and Page.
Host.
Bless thee, bully doctor.
Shal.
Save you, master doctor Caius.
Page.
Now, good master doctor.
Slen.
Give you good-morrow, sir.
Caius.
Vat be all you, one, two, tree, four, come for?
Host.
To see thee fight, to see thee foin, to see thee
traverse, to see thee here, to see thee there; to see
thee pass thy punto, thy stock, thy reverse, thy distance,
thy montant4 note. Is he dead, my Ethiopian? is he
-- 217 --
dead, my Francisco? ha, bully! What says my Æsculapius?
my Galen? my heart of elder? ha! is he dead,
bully-stale? is he dead?
Caius.
By gar, he is de coward Jack priest of the
vorld; he is not show his face.
Host.
Thou art a Castalian-king-Urinal: Hector of
Greece, my boy.
Caius.
I pray you, bear vitness that me have stay six
or seven, two, tree hours for him, and he is no come.
Shal.
He is the wiser man, master doctor: he is a
curer of souls, and you a curer of bodies; if you should
fight, you go against the hair of your professions. Is it
not true, master Page?
Page.
Master Shallow, you have yourself been a
great fighter, though now a man of peace.
Shal.
Bodykins, master Page, though I now be old,
and of the peace, if I see a sword out, my finger itches
to make one. Though we are justices, and doctors,
and churchmen, master Page, we have some salt of our
youth in us; we are the sons of women, master Page.
Page.
'Tis true, master Shallow.
Shal.
It will be found so, master Page. Master
doctor Caius, I am come to fetch you home. I am
sworn of the peace: you have showed yourself a wise
physician, and sir Hugh hath shown himself a wise and
patient churchman. You must go with me, master
doctor.
Host.
Pardon, guest-justice:—a word, monsieur
Mock-water5 note.
Caius.
Mock-vater! vat is dat?
Host.
Mock-water in our English tongue is valour,
bully.
-- 218 --
Caius.
By gar, then, I have as much mock-vater as
de Englishman.—Scurvy jack-dog priest! by gar, me
vill cut his ears.
Host.
He will clapper-claw thee tightly, bully.
Caius.
Clapper-de-claw! vat is dat?
Host.
That is, he will make thee amends.
Caius.
By gar, me do look, he shall clapper-de-claw
me; for, by gar, me vill have it.
Host.
And I will provoke him to't, or let him wag.
Caius.
Me tank you for dat.
Host.
And moreover, bully,—But first, master guest,
and master Page, and eke cavalero Slender, go you
through the town to Frogmore.
[Aside to them.
Page.
Sir Hugh is there, is he?
Host.
He is there: see what humour he is in, and I
will bring the doctor about by the fields. Will it do
well?
Shal.
We will do it.
Page. Shal. and Slen.
Adieu, good master doctor.
[Exeunt Page, Shallow, and Slender.
Caius.
By gar, me vill kill de priest, for he speak
for a jack-an-ape to Anne Page.
Host.
Let him die. Sheath thy impatience; throw
cold water on thy choler. Go about the fields with me
through Frogmore; I will bring thee where mistress
Anne Page is, at a farm-house a feasting, and thou
shall woo her. Cried game, said I well? 11Q0079
Caius.
By gar, me tank you vor dat: by gar, I love
you; and I shall procure-a you de good guest, de earl,
de knight, de lords, de gentlemen, my patients.
Host.
For the which I will be thy adversary toward
Anne Page: said I well?
Caius.
By gar, 'tis good; vell said.
Host.
Let us wag then.
Caius.
Come at my heels, Jack Rugby.
[Exeunt.
-- 219 --
ACT III.
SCENE I.
A Field near Frogmore.
Enter Sir Hugh Evans and Simple.
Eva.
I pray you now, good master Slender's servingman,
and friend Simple by your name, which way have
you looked for master Caius, that calls himself Doctor
of Physic?
Sim.
Marry, sir, the petty-ward6 note, the park-ward,
every way; old Windsor way, and every way but the
town way 11Q0080.
Eva.
I most fehemently desire you, you will also
look that way.
Sim.
I will, sir.
[Retiring.
Eva.
Pless my soul! how full of cholers I am, and
trempling of mind!—I shall be glad, if he have deceived
me.—How melancholies I am!—I will knog his
urinals about his knave's costard, when I have good
opportunities for the 'ork:—pless my soul!
[Sings.
To shallow rivers7 note, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals;
There will we make our peds of roses,
And a thousand fragrant posies.
To shallow—
-- 220 --
Mercy on me! I have a great dispositions to cry.
Melodious birds sing madrigals;—
When as I sat in Pabylon8 note,—
And a thousand vagram posies.
To shallow—
Sim. [Coming forward.]
Yonder he is coming, this
way, sir Hugh.
Eva.
He's welcome.—
To shallow rivers, to whose falls—
Heaven prosper the right!—What weapons is he?
Sim.
No weapons, sir. There comes my master,
master 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.
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, master parson?
Page.
And youthful still, in your doublet and hose,
this raw rheumatic day?
Eva.
There is reasons and causes for it.
Page.
We are come to you to do a good office, master
parson.
-- 221 --
Eva.
Fery well: what is it?
Page.
Yonder is a most reverend gentleman, who,
belike having received wrong by some person, is at
most odds with his own gravity and patience that ever
you saw.
Shal.
I have lived 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; master doctor Caius,
the renowned French physician.
Eva.
Got's will, and his passion of my heart! I had
as lief you would tell me of a mess of porridge.
Page.
Why?
Eva.
He has no more knowledge in Hibbocrates and
Galen,—and he is a knave besides; a cowardly knave,
as you would desires to be acquainted withal.
Page.
I warrant you, he's the man should fight with
him.
Slen.
O, sweet Anne Page!
Shal.
It appears so, by his weapons.—Keep them
asunder:—here comes doctor Caius.
Enter Host, Caius, and Rugby.
Page.
Nay, good master parson, keep in your weapon.
Shal.
So do you, good master 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 vit your
ear: verefore 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-stogs to other
men's humours; I desire you in friendship, and I will
one way or other make you amends.—I will knog your
-- 222 --
urinals about your knave's cogscomb for missing your
meetings and appointments9 note.
Caius.
Diable!—Jack Rugby,—mine Host de Jarretière,
have I not stay for him, to kill him? have I not,
at de place I did appoint?
Eva.
As I am a Christians soul, now, look you, this
is the place appointed. I'll be judgement by mine
Host of the Garter.
Host.
Peace, I say! Gallia and Guallia, French and
Welch1 note; soul-curer and body-curer.
Caius.
Ay, dat is very good: excellent.
Host.
Peace, I say! hear mine Host of the Garter.
Am I politic? 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 noverbs.
—Give me thy hand, terrestrial; so2 note:—Give me
thy hand, celestial; so.—Boys of art, I have deceived
you both 11Q0081; I have directed you to wrong places: your
hearts are mighty, your skins are whole, and let burnt
sack be the issue.—Come, lay their swords to pawn.—
Follow me, lad of peace; follow, follow, follow.
Shal.
Trust me, a mad host.—Follow, gentlemen,
follow.
Slen.
O, sweet Anne Page!
[Exeunt Shallow, Slender, Page, and Host.
Caius.
Ha! do I perceive dat? have you make-a de
sot of us? ha, ha!
-- 223 --
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
scall, scurvy, cogging companion, the Host of the Garter.
Caius.
By gar, vit all my heart. He promise to bring
me vere is Anne Page: by gar, he deceive me too.
Eva.
Well, I will smite his noddles.—Pray you, follow.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
A 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.
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. 11Q0082
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
-- 224 --
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.
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 miles,
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 borrowed veil of
modesty from the so-seeming mistress Page, divulge
Page himself for a secure and wilful Actæon; and to
these violent proceedings all my neighbours shall cry
aim3 note. [Clock strikes.] 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. 11Q0083
Enter Page, Shallow, Slender, Host, Sir Hugh Evans, Caius, and Rugby.
Page, Shal. &c.
Well met, master Ford.
-- 225 --
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, master Ford.
Slen.
And so must I, sir: we have appointed to dine
with mistress Anne, and I would not break with her
for more money than I'll speak of.
Shal.
We have lingered 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, master 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 master Fenton? he
capers, he dances, he has eyes of youth, he writes
verses, he speaks holyday, 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 Poins; 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 show you a monster.—Master doctor, you
shall go:—so shall you, master Page;—and you, sir
Hugh.
Shal.
Well, fare you well.—We shall have the freer
wooing at master Page's.
[Exeunt Shallow and Slender.
Caius.
Go home, John Rugby; I come anon.
[Exit Rugby.
-- 226 --
Host.
Farewell, my hearts. I will to my honest
knight Falstaff, and drink canary with him.
[Exit Host.
Ford. [Aside.]
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 III.
A Room in Ford's House.
Enter Mrs. Ford and Mrs. Page.
Mrs. Ford.
What, John! what, Robert!
Mrs. Page.
Quickly, quickly. Is the buck-basket—
Mrs. Ford.
I warrant,—What, Robin, I say!
Enter Servants with a large Basket.
Mrs. Page.
Come, come, come.
Mrs. Ford.
Here, set it down.
Mrs. Page.
Give your men the charge: we must be
brief.
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 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 have told them over and over; they
-- 227 --
lack no direction. Be gone, and come when you are
called.
[Exeunt Servants.
Mrs. Page.
Here comes little Robin.
Enter Robin.
Mrs. Ford.
How now, my eyas-musket4 note! what news
with you?
Rob.
My master, sir John, is come in at your back-door,
mistress Ford, and requests your company.
Mrs. Page.
You little Jack-a-lent5 note, have you been
true to us?
Rob.
Ay, I'll be sworn: my master knows not of
your being here; and hath threatened 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 secrecy of thine
shall be a tailor to thee, and shall make thee a new
doublet and hose.—I'll go hide me.
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 unwholesome
humidity, this gross watery pumpion;—we'll teach him
to know turtles from jays.
Enter Falstaff.
Fal.
Have I caught thee, my heavenly jewel6 note
?
-- 228 --
Why, now let me die, for I have lived long enough:
this is the period of my ambition. O this blessed hour!
Mrs. Ford.
O, sweet sir John!
Fal.
Mistress 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 show me such another.
I see how thine eye would emulate the diamond: thou
hast the right arched beauty of the brow, that becomes
the ship-tire7 note, the tire-valiant, or any tire of Venetian
admittance.
Mrs. Ford.
A plain kerchief, sir John: my brows
become nothing else; nor that well neither.
Fal.
By the Lord, thou art a tyrant to say so: thou
wouldst make an absolute courtier; and the firm fixture
of thy foot would give an excellent motion to thy
gait, in a semi-circled farthingale. I see what thou
wert, if fortune thy foe were not, nature thy friend8 note:
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 men's apparel, and smell like Bucklersbury
in simple-time9 note: I cannot; but I love thee, none but
thee, and thou deservest it.
-- 229 --
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, heaven 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.
Enter Mistress Page and Robin.
What's the matter? how now!
Mrs. Page.
O mistress Ford! what have you done?
You're shamed, you are overthrown, you're 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.
-- 230 -- 11Q0084
Mrs. Ford.
'Tis not so, I hope.
Mrs. Page.
Pray heaven 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
yourself clear, why I am glad of it; but if you have a
friend here, convey, convey him out. Be not amazed;
call all your senses to you: defend your reputation, or
bid farewell 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;
bethink you of some conveyance: in the house you
cannot hide him.—O, how have you deceived me!—
Look, here is a basket: if he be of any reasonable
stature, he may creep in here; and throw foul linen
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 thee1 note: help me away; let me creep in
here; I'll never—
[He gets into the basket: they cover him with foul linen.
-- 231 --
Mrs. Page.
Help to cover your master, boy. Call
your men, mistress Ford.—You dissembling knight!
Mrs. Ford.
What, John! Robert! John! [Exit Robin.
Re-enter Servants.] Go, take up these clothes here,
quickly; where's the cowl-staff? look, how you drumble2 note:
carry them to the laundress in Datchet mead;
quickly, come.
Enter Ford, Page, Caius, and Sir Hugh 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 laundress, forsooth.
Mrs. Ford.
Why, what have you to do whither they
bear it? You were best meddle with buck-washing.
Ford.
Buck! I would I could wash myself 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 dreamed
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:—so, now uncape3 note.
Page.
Good master Ford, be contented: you wrong
yourself too much.
Ford.
True, master Page.—Up, gentlemen; you shall
see sport anon: follow me, gentlemen.
[Exit.
Eva.
This is fery fantastical humours, and jealousies.
Caius.
By gar, 'tis no de fashion of France: it is not
jealous in France.
-- 232 --
Page.
Nay, follow him, gentlemen: see the issue of
his search.
[Exeunt Page, Evans, and Caius.
Mrs. Page.
Is there not a double excellency in this?
Mrs. Ford.
I know not which pleases me better, that
my husband is deceived, or sir John.
Mrs. Page.
What a taking was he in, when your
husband asked 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.
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, for I never saw him
so gross in his jealousy 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
eight o'clock, to have amends.
Re-enter Ford, Page, Caius, and Sir Hugh Evans.
Ford.
I cannot find him: may be, the knave bragged
of that he could not compass.
Mrs. Page.
Heard you that?
Mrs. Ford.
You use me well, master Ford, do you?
Ford.
Ay, I do so.
Mrs. Ford.
Heaven make you better than your
thoughts!
Ford.
Amen.
Mrs. Page.
You do yourself mighty wrong, master
Ford.
-- 233 --
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, heaven
forgive my sins at the day of judgment!
Caius.
By gar, nor I too: dere is no bodies.
Page.
Fie, fie, master Ford! are you not ashamed?
What spirit, what devil suggests this imagination? I
would not have your distemper in this kind for the
wealth of Windsor Castle.
Ford.
'Tis my fault, master Page: I suffer for it.
Eva.
You suffer for a pad conscience: your wife is
as honest a 'omans as I will desires among five thousand,
and five hundred too.
Caius.
By gar, I see 'tis an honest woman.
Ford.
Well; I promised 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.
Ford.
Pray you go, master Page.
Eva.
I pray you now, remembrance to-morrow on
the lousy knave, mine Host.
Caius.
Dat is good; by gar, vit all my heart.
Eva.
A lousy knave! to have his gibes, and his
mockeries.
[Exeunt.
-- 234 --
SCENE IV.
A Room in Page's House.
Enter Fenton and 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?
Fent.
Why, thou must be thyself.
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, heaven 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 thyself
That now I aim at.
Anne.
Gentle master Fenton,
Yet seek my father's love; still seek it, sir:
If opportunity and humblest suit
Cannot attain it, why then,—Hark you hither.
[They converse apart.
Enter Shallow, Slender, and Mrs. Quickly.
Shal.
Break their talk, mistress Quickly, my kinsman
shall speak for himself.
-- 235 --
Slen.
I'll make a shaft or a bolt on't. '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 afeard.
Quick.
Hark ye; master 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
Looks handsome in three hundred pounds a year!
Quick.
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, mistress Anne: my uncle can
tell you good jests of him.—Pray you, uncle, tell
mistress 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-tail4 note, 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 heartlings! that's a pretty jest,
-- 236 --
indeed. I ne'er made my will yet, I thank heaven; I
am not such a sickly creature, I give heaven praise.
Anne.
I mean, master 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 dole5 note! They can tell you how things go,
better than I can: you may ask your father; here he
comes.
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.
Quick.
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.
-- 237 --
Anne.
Good mother, do not marry me to yond' fool.
Mrs. Page.
I mean it not; I seek you a better husband.
Quick.
That's my master, master doctor.
Anne.
Alas! I had rather be set quick i' the earth,
And bowl'd to death with turnips.
Mrs. Page.
Come, trouble not yourself. 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, farewell, sir: she must needs go in;
Her father will be angry.
[Exeunt Mrs. Page and Anne.
Fent.
Farewell, gentle mistress.—Farewell, Nan.
Quick.
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.
Quick.
Now, heaven 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 master Slender
had her; or, in sooth, I would master Fenton had her.
I will do what I can for them all three, for so I have
promised, and I'll be as good as my word; but speciously
for master Fenton. Well, I must of another
errand to sir John Falstaff from my two mistresses:
what a beast am I to slack it.
[Exit.
-- 238 --
SCENE V.
A Room in 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 lived to be carried in a basket,
like a barrow of butcher's offal, and to be thrown in
the Thames? Well, if I be served such another trick,
I'll have my brains ta'en out, and buttered, and give
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 drowned a blind bitch's puppies6 note, fifteen
i' the 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
drowned, 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
swelled! I should have been a mountain of mummy.
Re-enter Bardolph, with the Wine.
Bard.
Here's mistress 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 swallowed
snow-balls for pills to cool the reins. Call her in.
Bard.
Come in, woman.
-- 239 --
Enter Mrs. Quickly.
Quick.
By your leave.—I cry you mercy: give your
worship good-morrow.
Fal.
Take away these chalices. Go brew me a
pottle of sack finely.
Bard.
With eggs, sir?
Fal.
Simple of itself; I'll no pullet-sperm in my
brewage.—[Exit Bardolph.]—How now!
Quick.
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.
Quick.
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 upon a foolish woman's
promise.
Quick.
Well, she laments, sir, for it, that it would
yearn 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.
Quick.
I will tell her.
Fal.
Do so. Between nine and ten, say'st thou?
Quick.
Eight and nine, sir.
Fal.
Well, be gone: I will not miss her.
Quick.
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 money well. O!
here he comes.
Enter Ford.
Ford.
Bless you, sir.
-- 240 --
Fal.
Now, master Brook; you come to know what
hath passed 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 sped you, sir?
Fal.
Very ill-favouredly, master Brook.
Ford.
How so, sir? Did she change her determination?
Fal.
No, master Brook; but the peaking cornuto
her husband, master Brook, dwelling in a continual
larum of jealousy, comes me in the instant of our
encounter, after we had embraced, kissed, protested,
and, as it were, spoke the prologue of our comedy; and
at his heels a rabble of his companions, thither provoked
and instigated by his distemper, and, forsooth, to
search his house for his wife's love.
Ford.
What! while you were 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 by her invention7 note, and Ford's
wife's distraction, they conveyed me into a buck-basket.
Ford.
A buck-basket!
Fal.
By the Lord, a buck-basket8 note: rammed me in
with foul shirts and smocks, socks, foul stockings, and
greasy napkins; that, master Brook, there was the
-- 241 --
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
suffered, to bring this woman to evil for your good.
Being thus crammed in the basket, a couple of Ford's
knaves, his hinds, were called forth by their mistress,
to carry me in the name of foul clothes to Datchet-lane:
they took me on their shoulders; met the jealous
knave their master in the door, who asked them once
or twice what they had in their basket. I quaked for
fear, lest the lunatic knave would have searched 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 clothes. But mark the sequel, master Brook:
I suffered the pangs of three several deaths: first, an
intolerable fright, to be detected with a jealous rotten
bell-wether: next, to be compassed, like a good bilbo,
in the circumference of a peck, hilt to point, heel to
head: and then, to be stopped in, like a strong distillation,
with stinking clothes that fretted in their own
grease: think of that,—a man of my kidney,—think of
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 stewed in grease, like a
Dutch dish, to be thrown into the Thames, and cooled,
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 have suffered all this. My suit, then, is desperate;
you'll undertake her no more?
Fal.
Master Brook, I will be thrown into Ætna, as I
have been into Thames, ere I will leave her thus. Her
husband is this morning gone a birding: I have received
from her another embassy of meeting; 'twixt
eight and nine is the hour, master Brook.
-- 242 --
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 crowned 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 linen,
and buck-baskets.—Well, I will proclaim myself what
I am; I will now take the lecher; he is at my house:
he cannot 'scape me; 'tis impossible he should: he
cannot creep into a halfpenny purse, nor into a pepperbox;
but, lest the devil that guides him should aid
him, I will search impossible places. Though 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.
ACT IV.
SCENE I.
The Street.
Enter Mrs. Page, Mrs. Quickly, and William.
Mrs. Page.
Is he at master Ford's already, think'st
thou?
Quick.
Sure, he is by this, or will be presently; but
truly, he is very courageous mad about his throwing
into the water. Mistress Ford desires you to come
suddenly.
-- 243 --
Mrs. Page.
I'll be with her by and by: I'll but bring
my young man here to school. Look, where his master
comes; 'tis a playing-day, I see.
Enter Sir Hugh Evans.
How now, sir Hugh! no school to-day?
Eva.
No; master Slender is let the boys leave to
play. 11Q0085
Quick.
Blessing of his heart!
Mrs. Page.
Sir Hugh, my husband says, my son profits
nothing in the world at his book: I pray you, ask
him some questions in his accidence.
Eva.
Come hither, William: hold up your head;
come.
Mrs. Page.
Come on, sirrah: hold up your head;
answer your master, be not afraid.
Eva.
William, how many numbers is in nouns?
Will.
Two.
Quick.
Truly, I thought there had been one number
more, because they say, od's nouns.
Eva.
Peace your tattlings!—What is fair, William?
Will.
Pulcher.
Quick.
Pole-cats! there are fairer things than pole-
cats, sure.
Eva.
You are a very simplicity 'oman: I pray you,
peace.—What is lapis, William?
Will.
A stone.
Eva.
And what is a stone, William?
Will.
A pebble.
Eva.
No, it is lapis: I pray you remember in your
prain.
Will.
Lapis.
Eva.
That is good, William. What is he, William,
that does lend articles?
Will.
Articles are borrowed of the pronoun; and be
thus declined, Singulariter, nominativo, hic, hæc, hoc.
-- 244 --
Evans.
Nominativo, hig, hag, hog; —pray you, mark:
genitivo, hujus. Well, what is your accusative case?
Will.
Accusativo, hinc.
Eva.
I pray you, have your remembrance, child:
accusativo, hing, hang, hog.
Quick.
Hang hog is Latin for bacon, I warrant you.
Eva.
Leave your prabbles, 'oman.—What is the
focative case, William?
Will.
O—vocativo, O.
Eva.
Remember, William; focative is, caret.
Quick.
And that's a good root.
Eva.
'Oman, forbear.
Mrs. Page
Peace!
Eva.
What is your genitive case plural, William?
Will.
Genitive case?
Eva.
Ay.
Will.
Genitive,—horum, harum, horum.
Quick.
Vengeance of Jenny's case! fie on her!—
Never name her, child, if she be a whore.
Eva.
For shame, 'oman!
Quick.
You do ill to teach the child such words.—
He teaches him to hick and to hack, which they'll do
fast enough of themselves; and to call horum,—fie
upon you!
Eva.
'Oman, art thou lunatics? hast thou no understandings
for thy cases, and the numbers of the genders?
Thou art as foolish Christian creatures as I
would desires.
Mrs. Page.
Pr'ythee hold thy peace.
Eva.
Show me now, William, some declensions of
your pronouns.
Will.
Forsooth, I have forgot.
Eva.
It is qui, quæ, quod; if you forget your quis,
your quæs, and your quods, you must be preeches. Go
your ways, and play; go.
Mrs. Page.
He is a better scholar, than I thought he
was.
-- 245 --
Eva.
He is a good sprag memory9 note. Farewell, mistress
Page.
Mrs. Page.
Adieu, good sir Hugh. [Exit Sir Hugh.]
Get you home, boy.—Come, we stay too long.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
A Room in Ford's House.
Enter Falstaff and Mrs. Ford.
Fal.
Mistress Ford, your sorrow hath eaten up my
sufferance. I see, you are obsequious in your love, and
I profess requital to a hair's breadth; not only, Mrs.
Ford, in the simple office of love, but in all the accoutrement,
complement, and ceremony of it. But are
you sure of your husband now?
Mrs. Ford.
He's a birding, sweet sir John.
Mrs. Page. [Within.]
What hoa! gossip Ford! what
hoa!
Mrs. Ford.
Step into the chamber, sir John.
[Exit Falstaff.
Enter Mrs. Page.
Mrs. Page.
How now, sweetheart! who's at home
besides yourself?
Mrs. Ford.
Why, none but mine own people.
Mrs. Page.
Indeed?
Mrs. Ford.
No, certainly.—[Aside.] Speak louder.
Mrs. Page.
Truly, I am so glad you have nobody
here.
Mrs. Ford.
Why?
Mrs. Page.
Why, woman, your husband is in his old
-- 246 --
lunes again1 note: he so takes on yonder with my husband;
so rails against all married mankind; so curses all Eve's
daughters, of what complexion soever; and so buffets
himself on the forehead, crying, “Peer-out, Peer-out!”
that any madness I ever yet beheld seemed but tameness,
civility, and patience, to this his distemper he is
in now. I am glad the fat knight is not here.
Mrs. Ford.
Why, does he talk of him?
Mrs. Page.
Of none but him; and swears, he was
carried out, the last time he searched for him, in a
basket: protests to my husband he is now here, and
hath drawn him and the rest of their company from
their sport, to make another experiment of his suspicion.
But I am glad the knight is not here; now he
shall see his own foolery.
Mrs. Ford.
How near is he, mistress Page?
Mrs. Page.
Hard by; at street end: he will be here
anon.
Mrs. Ford.
I am undone! the knight is here.
Mrs. Page.
Why, then you are utterly shamed, and
he's but a dead man. What a woman are you!—
Away with him, away with him: better shame, than
murder.
Mrs. Ford.
Which way should he go? how should I
bestow him? Shall I put him into the basket again?
Re-enter Falstaff.
Fal.
No, I'll come no more i' the basket. May I
not go out, ere he come?
Mrs. Page.
Alas, three of master Ford's brothers
watch the door with pistols, that none shall issue out;
otherwise you might slip away ere he came. But what
make you here?
-- 247 --
Fal.
What shall I do?—I'll creep up into the chimney.
Mrs. Ford.
There they always use to discharge their
birding-pieces. Creep into the kiln-hole.
Fal.
Where is it?
Mrs. Ford.
He will seek there, on my word. Neither
press, coffer, chest, trunk, well, vault, but he hath an
abstract for the remembrance of such places, and goes
to them by his note: there is no hiding you in the
house.
Fal.
I'll go out, then.
Mrs. Page.
If you go out2 note in your own semblance,
you die, sir John. Unless you go out disguised,—
Mrs. Ford.
How might we disguise him?
Mrs. Page.
Alas the day! I know not. There is no
woman's gown big enough for him; otherwise, he might
put on a hat, a muffler, and a kerchief, and so escape.
Fal.
Good hearts, devise something: any extremity,
rather than a mischief.
Mrs. Ford.
My maid's aunt, the fat woman of Brentford3 note,
has a gown above.
Mrs. Page.
On my word it will serve him; she's as
big as he is: and there's her thrum'd hat, and her muffler
too.—Run up, sir John.
Mrs. Ford.
Go, go, sweet sir John: mistress Page
and I will look some linen for your head.
Mrs. Page.
Quick, quick: we'll come dress you
straight; put on the gown the while.
[Exit Falstaff.
-- 248 --
Mrs. Ford.
I would, my husband would meet him in
this shape: he cannot abide the old woman of Brentford;
he swears, she's a witch; forbade her my house,
and hath threatened to beat her.
Mrs. Page.
Heaven guide him to thy husband's cudgel,
and the devil guide his cudgel afterwards!
Mrs. Ford.
But is my husband coming?
Mrs. Page.
Ay, in good sadness, is he; and talks of
the basket too, howsoever he hath had intelligence.
Mrs. Ford.
We'll try that; for I'll appoint my men
to carry the basket again, to meet him at the door with
it, as they did last time.
Mrs. Page.
Nay, but he'll be here presently: let's go
dress him like the witch of Brentford.
Mrs. Ford.
I'll first direct my men, what they shall
do with the basket. Go up, I'll bring linen for him
straight.
[Exit.
Mrs. Page.
Hang him, dishonest varlet! we cannot
misuse him enough4 note.
We'll leave a proof, by that which we will do,
Wives may be merry, and yet honest too:
We do not act, that often jest and laugh;
'Tis old but true, “Still swine eat all the draff.”
[Exit.
Re-enter Mrs. Ford, with two Servants.
Mrs. Ford.
Go, sirs, take the basket again on your
shoulders: your master is hard at door; if he bid you
set it down, obey him. Quickly; despatch.
[Exit.
1 Serv.
Come, come, take it up.
2 Serv.
Pray heaven, it be not full of knight again5 note.
1 Serv.
I hope not; I had as lief bear so much lead.
-- 249 -- 11Q0086
Enter Ford, Page, Shallow, Caius, and Sir Hugh Evans.
Ford.
Ay, but if it prove true, master Page, have
you any way then to unfool me again?—Set down the
basket, villain.—Somebody call my wife.—Youth in a
basket6 note!—O you panderly rascals! there's a knot, a
ging7 note, a pack, a conspiracy against me: now shall the
devil be shamed.—What, wife, I say! Come, come
forth: behold what honest clothes you send forth to
bleaching.
Page.
Why, this passes! Master Ford, you are not
to go loose any longer; you must be pinioned.
Eva.
Why, this is lunatics: this is mad as a mad
dog.
Shal.
Indeed, master Ford, this is not well; indeed.
Enter Mrs. Ford.
Ford.
So say I too, sir.—Come hither, mistress
Ford; mistress Ford, the honest woman, the modest
wife, the virtuous creature, that hath the jealous fool to
her husband!—I suspect without cause, mistress, do I?
Mrs. Ford.
Heaven be my witness, you do, if you
suspect me in any dishonesty.
Ford.
Well said, brazen-face; hold it out.—Come
forth, sirrah.
[Pulls the Clothes out of the Basket.
Page.
This passes!
Mrs. Ford.
Are you not ashamed? let the clothes
alone.
Ford.
I shall find you anon.
-- 250 --
Eva.
'Tis unreasonable. Will you take up your
wife's clothes? Come away.
Ford.
Empty the basket, I say.
Mrs. Ford.
Why, man, why,—
Ford.
Master Page, as I am a man, there was one
conveyed out of my house yesterday in this basket:
why may not he be there again? In my house I am
sure he is: my intelligence is true; my jealousy is
reasonable.—Pluck me out all the linen.
Mrs. Ford.
If you find a man there, he shall die a
flea's death.
Page.
Here's no man.
Shal.
By my fidelity, this is not well, master Ford;
this wrongs you.
Eva.
Master Ford, you must pray, and not follow
the imaginations of your own heart: this is jealousies.
Ford.
Well, he's not here I seek for.
Page.
No, nor no where else, but in your brain.
Ford.
Help to search my house this one time: if I
find not what I seek, show no colour for my extremity,
let me for ever be your table-sport; let them say of
me, “As jealous as Ford, that searched a hollow walnut
for his wife's leman8 note.” Satisfy me once more; once
more search with me.
Mrs. Ford.
What hoa! mistress Page! come you,
and the old woman, down; my husband will come into
the chamber.
Ford.
Old woman! What old woman's that?
Mrs. Ford.
Why, it is my maid's aunt of Brentford.
Ford.
A witch, a quean, an old cozening quean!
Have I not forbid her my house? She comes of
errands, does she? We are simple men; we do not
know what's brought to pass under the profession of
fortune-telling. She works by charms, by spells, by
-- 251 --
the figure, and such daubery as this is; beyond our
element: we know nothing.—Come down, you witch,
you hag you; come down I say.
Mrs. Ford.
Nay, good, sweet husband.—Good gentlemen,
let him not strike the old woman9 note.
Enter Falstaff in Women's Clothes, led by Mrs. Page.
Mrs. Page.
Come, mother Prat; come, give me your
hand.
Ford.
I'll prat her.—Out of my door, you witch!
[beats him] you rag, you baggage, you polecat, you
ronyon10 note! out! out! I'll conjure you, I'll fortune-tell you.
[Exit Falstaff.
Mrs. Page.
Are you not ashamed? I think, you
have killed the poor woman.
Mrs. Ford.
Nay, he will do it.—'Tis a goodly credit
for you.
Ford.
Hang her, witch!
Eva.
By yea and no, I think, the 'oman is a witch
indeed: I like not when a 'oman has a great peard; I
spy a great peard under her muffler.
Ford.
Will you follow, gentlemen? I beseech you,
follow: see but the issue of my jealousy. If I cry out
thus upon no trail, never trust me when I open again.
Page.
Let's obey his humour a little farther. Come,
gentlemen.
[Exeunt Ford, Page, Shallow, and Evans.
Mrs. Page.
Trust me, he beat him most pitifully.
Mrs. Ford.
Nay, by the mass, that he did not; he
beat him most unpitifully, methought.
Mrs. Page.
I'll have the cudgel hallowed, and hung
o'er the altar: it hath done meritorious service.
Mrs. Ford.
What think you? May we, with the
-- 252 --
warrant of womanhood, and the witness of a good conscience,
pursue him with any farther revenge?
Mrs. Page.
The spirit of wantonness is, sure, scared
out of him: if the devil have him not in fee simple,
with fine and recovery, he will never, I think, in the
way of waste, attempt us again.
Mrs. Ford.
Shall we tell our husbands how we have
served him?
Mrs. Page.
Yes, by all means; if it be but to scrape
the figures out of your husband's brains. If they can
find in their hearts the poor unvirtuous fat knight
shall be any farther afflicted, we two will still be the
ministers.
Mrs. Ford.
I'll warrant, they'll have him publicly
shamed, and, methinks, there would be no period to
the jest. Should he not be publicly shamed?
Mrs. Page.
Come, to the forge with it, then shape
it: I would not have things cool.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
A Room in the Garter Inn.
Enter Host and Bardolph.
Bard.
Sir, the Germans desire1 note to have three of your
horses: the duke himself will be to-morrow at court,
and they are going to meet him.
Host.
What duke should that be, comes so secretly?
I hear not of him in the court. Let me speak with
the gentlemen; they speak English?
Bard.
Ay, sir; I'll call them to you.
-- 253 --
Host.
They shall have my horses, but I'll make
them pay; I'll sauce them: they have had my houses a
week at command; I have turned away my other
guests: they must come off; I'll sauce them. Come.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
A Room in Ford's House.
Enter Page, Ford, Mrs. Page, Mrs. Ford, and Sir Hugh Evans.
Eva.
'Tis one of the pest discretions of a 'oman as
ever I did look upon.
Page.
And did he send you both these letters at an
instant?
Mrs. Page.
Within a quarter of an hour.
Ford.
Pardon me, wife. Henceforth do what thou wilt;
I rather will suspect the sun with cold2 note 11Q0087,
Than thee with wantonness: now doth thy honour stand,
In him that was of late a heretic,
As firm as faith.
Page.
'Tis well, 'tis well; no more.
Be not as extreme in submission,
As in offence;
But let our plot go forward: let our wives
Yet once again, to make us public sport,
Appoint a meeting with this old fat fellow,
Where we may take him, and disgrace him for it.
Ford.
There is no better way than that they spoke of.
-- 254 --
Page.
How? to send him word they'll meet him in
the park at midnight? fie, fie! he'll never come.
Eva.
You say, he has been thrown into the rivers,
and has been grievously peaten, as an old 'oman: methinks,
there should be terrors in him, that he should
not come; methinks, his flesh is punished, he shall have
no desires.
Page.
So think I too.
Mrs. Ford.
Devise but how you'll use him when he comes,
And let us two devise to bring him thither.
Mrs. Page.
There is an old tale goes, that Herne the hunter,
Sometime a keeper here in Windsor forest,
Doth all the winter time, at still midnight,
Walk round about an oak, with great ragg'd horns;
And there he blasts the tree, and takes the cattle3 note;
And makes milch-kine yield blood, and shakes a chain
In a most hideous and dreadful manner.
You have heard of such a spirit; and well you know,
The superstitious idle-headed eld
Received, and did deliver to our age,
This tale of Herne the hunter for a truth.
Page.
Why, yet there want not many, that do fear
In deep of night to walk by this Herne's oak.
But what of this?
Mrs. Ford.
Marry, this is our device;
That Falstaff at that oak shall meet with us,
Disguis'd like Herne, with huge horns on his head4 note.
Page.
Well, let it not be doubted but he'll come,
And in this shape: when you have brought him thither,
-- 255 --
What shall be done with him? what is your plot?
Mrs. Page.
That likewise have we thought upon, and thus.
Nan Page my daughter, and my little son,
And three or four more of their growth, we'll dress
Like urchins, ouphes5 note, and fairies, green and white,
With rounds of waxen tapers on their heads,
And rattles in their hands. Upon a sudden,
As Falstaff, she, and I, are newly met,
Let them from forth a saw-pit rush at once
With some diffused song6 note note: upon their sight,
We two in great amazedness will fly:
Then, let them all encircle him about,
And, fairy-like, to-pinch the unclean knight7 note;
And ask him, why, that hour of fairy revel,
In their so sacred paths he dares to tread,
In shape profane.
Mrs. Ford.
And till he tell the truth,
Let the supposed fairies pinch him sound,
And burn him with their tapers.
Mrs. Page.
The truth being known,
We'll all present ourselves, dis-horn the spirit,
And mock him home to Windsor.
Ford.
The children must
Be practised well to this, or they'll ne'er do't.
Eva.
I will teach the children their behaviours; and
I will be like a jack-an-apes also, to burn the knight
with my taber.
Ford.
That will be excellent. I'll go buy them
vizards.
-- 256 --
Mrs. Page.
My Nan shall be the queen of all the fairies,
Finely attired in a robe of white.
Page.
That silk will I go buy;—[Aside.] and in that time
Shall master Slender steal my Nan away,
And marry her at Eton. [To them.] Go, send to Falstaff straight.
Ford.
Nay, I'll to him again in name of Brook;
He'll tell me all his purpose. Sure, he'll come.
Mrs. Page.
Fear not you that. Go, get us properties,
And tricking for our fairies.
Eva.
Let us about it: it is admirable pleasures, and
fery honest knaveries.
[Exeunt Page, Ford, and Evans.
Mrs. Page.
Go, mistress Ford,
Send Quickly to sir John, to know his mind.
[Exit Mrs. Ford.
I'll to the doctor: he hath my good will,
And none but he, to marry with Nan Page.
That Slender, though well landed, is an idiot;
And he my husband best of all affects:
The doctor is well money'd, and his friends
Potent at court: he, none but he, shall have her,
Though twenty thousand worthier come to crave her.
[Exit.
SCENE V.
A Room in the Garter Inn.
Enter Host and Simple.
Host.
What wouldst thou have, boor? what, thickskin?
speak, breathe, discuss; brief, short, quick, snap.
-- 257 --
Sim.
Marry, sir, I come to speak with sir John Falstaff
from master Slender.
Host.
There's his chamber, his house, his castle, his
standing-bed, and truckle-bed: 'tis painted about with
the story of the prodigal, fresh and new. Go, knock
and call; he'll speak like an Anthropophaginian unto
thee: knock, I say.
Sim.
There's an old woman, a fat woman, gone up
into his chamber: I'll be so bold as stay, sir, till she
come down; I come to speak with her, indeed.
Host.
Ha! a fat woman? the knight may be robbed:
I'll call.—Bully knight! Bully sir John! speak from
thy lungs military; art thou there? it is thine host,
thine Ephesian, calls.
Fal. [above.]
How now, mine host!
Host.
Here's a Bohemian Tartar tarries the coming
down of thy fat woman. Let her descend, bully, let
her descend; my chambers are honourable: fie! privacy?
fie!
Enter Falstaff.
Fal.
There was, mine host, an old fat woman even
now with me, but she's gone.
Sim.
Pray you, sir, was't not the wise woman of
Brentford?
Fal.
Ay, marry, was it, muscle-shell: what would
you with her?
Sim.
My master, sir, my master Slender, sent to her,
seeing her go through the streets, to know, sir, whether
one Nym, sir, that beguiled him of a chain, had the
chain, or no.
Fal.
I spake with the old woman about it.
Sim.
And what says she, I pray, sir?
Fal.
Marry, she says, that the very same man, that
beguiled master Slender of his chain, cozened him of it.
Sim.
I would, I could have spoken with the woman
-- 258 --
herself: I had other things to have spoken with her
too, from him.
Fal.
What are they? let us know.
Host.
Ay, come; quick.
Sim.
I may not conceal them, sir?
Host.
Conceal them, or thou diest. 11Q0088
Sim.
Why, sir, they were nothing but about mistress
Anne Page; to know, if it were my master's fortune
to have her, or no.
Fal.
'Tis, 'tis his fortune.
Sim.
What, sir?
Fal.
To have her,—or no. Go; say, the woman told
me so.
Sim.
May I be bold to say so, sir?
Fal.
Ay, sir, tike, who more bold8 note?
Sim.
I thank your worship. I shall make my master
glad with these tidings.
[Exit Simple.
Host.
Thou art clerkly, thou art clerkly, sir John.
Was there a wise woman with thee?
Fal.
Ay, that there was, mine host; one, that hath
taught me more wit than ever I learned before in my
life: and I paid nothing for it neither, but was paid for
my learning.
Enter Bardolph.
Bard.
Out, alas, sir! cozenage; mere cozenage!
Host.
Where be my horses? speak well of them,
varletto.
Bard.
Run away with the cozeners; 11Q0089 for so soon as I
came beyond Eton, they threw me off from behind one
of them in a slough of mire; and set spurs, and away,
like three German devils, three Doctor Faustuses9 note.
-- 259 --
Host.
They are gone but to meet the duke, villain.
Do not say, they be fled: Germans are honest men.
Enter Sir Hugh Evans.
Eva.
Where is mine host?
Host.
What is the matter, sir?
Eva.
Have a care of your entertainments: there is a
friend of mine come to town tells me, there is three
couzin germans, that has cozened all the hosts of Readings,
of Maidenhead, of Colebrook, of horses and money.
I tell you for good-will, look you: you are wise,
and full of gibes and vlouting-stogs, and 'tis not convenient
you should be cozened. Fare you well.
[Exit.
Enter Doctor Caius.
Caius.
Vere is mine Host de Jarretière?
Host.
Here, master doctor, in perplexity, and doubtful
dilemma.
Caius.
I cannot tell vat is dat; but it is tell-a me,
dat you make grand preparation for a duke de Jarmany:
by my trot, dere is no duke, dat de court is
know to come. I tell you for good vill: adieu.
[Exit.
Host.
Hue and cry, villain! go.—Assist me, knight;
I am undone.—Fly, run, hue and cry, villain! I am
undone!
[Exeunt Host and Bardolph.
Fal.
I would all the world might be cozened, for I
have been cozened, and beaten too. If it should come
to the ear of the court how I have been transformed,
and how my transformation hath been washed and cudgelled,
they would melt me out of my fat, drop by drop,
and liquor fishermen's boots with me: I warrant, they
would whip me with their fine wits, till I were as crest-
-- 260 --
fallen as a dried pear. I never prospered since I forswore
myself at primero1 note. Well, if my wind were but
long enough to say my prayers2 note, I would repent.—
Enter Mistress Quickly.
Now, whence come you?
Quick.
From the two parties, forsooth.
Fal.
The devil take one party, and his dam the other,
and so they shall be both bestowed. I have suffered
more for their sakes, more, than the villainous inconstancy
of man's disposition is able to bear.
Quick.
And have not they suffered? Yes, I warrant;
speciously one of them: mistress Ford, good heart, is
beaten black and blue, that you cannot see a white spot
about her.
Fal.
What tell'st thou me of black and blue? I
was beaten myself into all the colours of the rainbow;
and I was like to be apprehended for the witch of
Brentford: but that my admirable dexterity of wit, my
counterfeiting the action of an old woman, deliver'd
me, the knave constable had set me i' the stocks, i' the
common stocks, for a witch.
Quick.
Sir, let me speak with you in your chamber;
you shall hear how things go, and, I warrant, to your
content. Here is a letter will say somewhat. Good
hearts! what ado here is to bring you together. Sure,
one of you does not serve heaven well, that you are so
crossed.
Fal.
Come up into my chamber.
[Exeunt.
-- 261 --
SCENE VI.
Another Room in the Garter Inn.
Enter Fenton and Host.
Host.
Master Fenton, talk not to me: my mind is
heavy; I will give over all.
Fent.
Yet hear me speak. Assist me in my purpose,
And, as I am a gentleman, I'll give thee
A hundred pound in gold more than your loss.
Host.
I will hear you, master Fenton; and I will, at
the least, keep your counsel.
Fent.
From time to time I have acquainted you
With the dear love I bear to fair Anne Page;
Who, mutually, hath answer'd my affection
(So far forth as herself might be her chooser)
Even to my wish. I have a letter from her
Of such contents as you will wonder at;
The mirth whereof so larded with my matter,
That neither, singly, can be manifested,
Without the show of both;—wherein fat Falstaff3 note
Hath a great scene: the image of the jest
[Showing the Letter.
I'll show you here at large. Hark, good mine Host:
To-night at Herne's oak, just 'twixt twelve and one,
Must my sweet Nan present the fairy queen;
The purpose why, is here; in which disguise,
While other jests are something rank on foot,
Her father hath commanded her to slip
Away with Slender, and with him at Eton
Immediately to marry: she hath consented.
Now, sir,
-- 262 --
Her mother, even strong against that match,
And firm for Dr. Caius, hath appointed
That he shall likewise shuffle her away,
While other sports are tasking of their minds,
And at the deanery, where a priest attends,
Straight marry her: to this her mother's plot
She, seemingly obedient, likewise hath
Made promise to the doctor.—Now, thus it rests:
Her father means she shall be all in white;
And in that habit, when Slender sees his time
To take her by the hand, and bid her go,
She shall go with him:—her mother hath intended,
The better to denote her to the doctor4 note,
(For they must all be mask'd and vizarded)
That quaint in green she shall be loose enrob'd,
With ribands pendant, flaring 'bout her head;
And when the doctor spies his vantage ripe,
To pinch her by the hand, and on that token
The maid hath given consent to go with him.
Host.
Which means she to deceive? father or mother?
Fent.
Both, my good host, to go along with me:
And here it rests,—that you'll procure the vicar
To stay for me at church 'twixt twelve and one,
And in the lawful name of marrying,
To give our hearts united ceremony.
Host.
Well, husband your device: I'll to the vicar.
Bring you the maid, you shall not lack a priest.
Fent.
So shall I evermore be bound to thee;
Besides, I'll make a present recompense.
[Exeunt.
-- 263 --
ACT V.
SCENE I.
A Room in the Garter Inn.
Enter Falstaff and Mrs. Quickly.
Fal.
Pr'ythee, no more prattling;—go:—I'll hold.
This is the third time; I hope, good luck lies in odd
numbers. Away, go. They say, there is divinity in
odd numbers, either in nativity, chance, or death.—
Away.
Quick.
I'll provide you a chain, and I'll do what I
can to get you a pair of horns.
Fal.
Away, I say; time wears: hold up your head,
and mince.
[Exit Mrs. Quickly.
Enter Ford.
How now, master Brook! Master Brook, the matter
will be known to-night, or never. Be you in the Park
about midnight, at Herne's oak, and you shall see
wonders.
Ford.
Went you not to her yesterday, sir, as you
told me you had appointed?
Fal.
I went to her, master Brook, as you see, like a
poor old man; but I came from her, master Brook,
like a poor old woman. That same knave, Ford her
husband, hath the finest mad devil of jealousy in him,
master Brook, that ever governed frenzy. I will tell
you.—He beat me grievously, in the shape of a woman;
for in the shape of man, master Brook, I fear not
Goliah with a weaver's beam, because I know also, life
is a shuttle. I am in haste: go along with me; I'll
tell you all, master Brook. Since I plucked geese,
played truant, and whipped top, I knew not what it
-- 264 --
was to be beaten, till lately. Follow me: I'll tell you
strange things of this knave Ford, on whom to-night I
will be revenged, and I will deliver his wife into your
hand.—Follow. Strange things in hand, master Brook:
follow.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Windsor Park.
Enter Page, Shallow, and Slender.
Page.
Come, come: we'll couch i' the castle-ditch,
till we see the light of our fairies.—Remember, son
Slender, my daughter5 note.
Slen.
Ay, forsooth; I have spoke with her, and we
have a nay-word, how to know one another. I come
to her in white, and cry, “mum;” she cries, “budget6 note,”
and by that we know one another.
Shal.
That's good too: but what needs either your
“mum,” or her “budget?” the white will decipher her
well enough.—It hath struck ten o'clock.
Page.
The night is dark; light and spirits will
become it well. Heaven prosper our sport! No man
means evil but the devil, and we shall know him by
his horns. Let's away; follow me.
[Exeunt.
-- 265 --
SCENE III.
The Street in Windsor.
Enter Mrs. Page, Mrs. Ford, and Dr. Caius.
Mrs. Page.
Master Doctor, my daughter is in green:
when you see your time, take her by the hand, away
with her to the deanery, and dispatch it quickly. Go
before into the park: we two must go together.
Caius.
I know vat I have to do. Adieu.
Mrs. Page.
Fare you well, sir. [Exit Caius.] My
husband will not rejoice so much at the abuse of Falstaff,
as he will chafe at the doctor's marrying my
daughter: but 'tis no matter; better a little chiding,
than a great deal of heart-break.
Mrs. Ford.
Where is Nan now, and her troop of
fairies? and the Welch devil, Hugh7 note 11Q0090?
Mrs. Page.
They are all couched in a pit hard by
Herne's oak, with obscured lights; which, at the very
instant of Falstaff's and our meeting, they will at once
display to the night.
Mrs. Ford.
That cannot choose but amaze him.
Mrs. Page.
If he be not amazed, he will be mocked;
if he be amazed, he will every way be mocked.
Mrs. Ford.
We'll betray him finely.
Mrs. Page.
Against such lewdsters, and their lechery,
Those that betray them do no treachery.
Mrs. Ford.
The hour draws on: to the oak, to the
oak!
[Exeunt.
-- 266 --
SCENE IV.
Windsor Park.
Enter Sir Hugh Evans, and Fairies.
Eva.
Trib, trib, fairies: come; and remember your
parts. Be pold, I pray you; follow me into the pit,
and when I give the watch-'ords, do as I pid you.
Come, come; trib, trib.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V.
Another Part of the Park.
Enter Falstaff disguised, with a Buck's Head on.
Fal.
The Windsor bell hath struck twelve; the
minute draws on. Now, the hot-blooded gods assist
me!—remember, Jove, thou wast a bull for thy
Europa; love set on thy horns.—O powerful love! that,
in some respects, makes a beast a man, in some other,
a man a beast.—You were also, Jupiter, a swan, for
the love of Leda:—O, omnipotent love! how near the
god drew to the complexion of a goose!—A fault done
first in the form of a beast;—O Jove, a beastly fault!
and then another fault in the semblance of a fowl:
think on't, Jove; a foul fault.—When gods have hot
backs, what shall poor men do? For me, I am here a
Windsor stag; and the fattest, I think, i' the forest:
send me a cool rut-time, Jove, or who can blame me to
piss my tallow? Who comes here? my doe?
Enter Mrs. Ford and Mrs. Page.
Mrs. Ford.
Sir John? art thou there, my deer? my
male deer?
Fal.
My doe with the black scut?—Let the sky
-- 267 --
rain potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of “Green
Sleeves;” hail kissing-comfits, and snow eringoes; let
there come a tempest of provocation, I will shelter me
here.
[Embracing her.
Mrs. Ford.
Mistress Page is come with me, sweetheart.
Fal.
Divide me like a bribe-buck8 note 11Q0091, 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. 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.
[Noise within.
Mrs. Page.
Alas! what noise?
Mrs. Ford.
Heaven forgive our sins!
Fal.
What should this be?
Mrs. Ford, Mrs. Page.
Away, away!
[They run off.
Fal.
I think, the devil will not have me damned,
lest the oil that is in me should set hell on fire; he
would never else cross me thus.
Enter Sir Hugh Evans, like a Satyr; Mrs. Quickly,
and Pistol; Anne Page, as the Fairy Queen, attended
by her brother and others, dressed like fairies, with waxen tapers on their heads.
Queen. 11Q0092
Fairies, black, grey, green, and white9 note,
You moonshine revellers, and shades of night,
You orphan-heirs of fixed destiny,
-- 268 --
Attend your office, and your quality.—
Crier Hobgoblin, 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, 11Q0093
There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry:
Our radiant queen hates sluts, and sluttery.
Fal.
They are fairies; he, that speaks to them, shall die:
I'll wink and couch. No man their works must eye.
[Lies down upon his face.
Eva.
Where's Bead10 note
?—Go you, and where you find a maid,
That, ere she sleep, has thrice her prayers said,
Raise up 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.
Queen.
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 wholesome, 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, ever more be blest!
And nightly, meadow-fairies, look, you sing,
Like to the Garter's compass, in a ring:
Th' expressure that it bears, green let it be,
-- 269 --
More fertile-fresh than all the field to see;
And, Honi soit qui mal y pense, write,
In emerald tufts, flowers purple, blue, and white;
Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery,
Buckled below fair knighthood's bending knee:
Fairies, use flowers for their charactery.
Away! disperse! But, till 'tis one o'clock,
Our dance of custom, round about the oak
Of Herne the hunter, let us not forget.
Eva.
Pray you, lock hand in hand: yourselves in order set;
And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be,
To guide our measure round about the tree.
But, stay! I smell a man of middle earth11 note.
Fal.
Heavens defend me from that Welch fairy, lest
he transform me to a piece of cheese!
Pist.
Vile worm, thou wast o'er-look'd1 note, even in thy birth.
Queen.
With trial-fire touch me his finger-end:
If he be chaste, 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.
Eva.
Come, will this wood take fire?
[They burn him with their tapers.
Fal.
Oh, oh, oh!
Queen.
Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire!
About him, fairies, sing a scornful rhyme;
And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time2 note.
-- 270 --
Song.
Fie on sinful fantasy3 note!
Fie on lust and luxury!
Lust is but a bloody fire,
Kindled with unchaste desire,
Fed in heart; whose flames aspire,
As thoughts do blow them higher and higher.
Pinch him, fairies, mutually;
Pinch him for his villainy;
Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about,
Till candles, and star-light, and moonshine be out.
During this song, the fairies pinch Falstaff: Doctor
Caius comes one way, and steals away a fairy in green;
Slender another way, and takes off a fairy in white;
and Fenton comes, and steals away Anne Page. A
noise of hunting is made within. All the fairies run
away. Falstaff pulls off his buck's head, and rises4 note.
Enter Page, Ford, Mrs. Page, and Mrs. Ford. They lay hold on him.
Page.
Nay, do not fly: I think, we have watch'd you now.
Will none but Herne the hunter serve your turn?
Mrs. Page.
I pray you come; hold up the jest no higher.—
Now, good sir John, how like you Windsor wives?
See you these, husband? do not these fair yokes
Become the forest better than the town?
-- 271 --
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
paid to master Brook: his horses are arrested for it,
master Brook.
Mrs. Ford.
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.
Fal.
I do begin to perceive, that I am made an ass.
Ford.
Ay, and an ox too; both the proofs are extant.
Fal.
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 surprise of my
powers, drove the grossness of the foppery into a received
belief, in despite of the teeth of all rhyme and
reason, that they were fairies. See now, how wit may
be made a Jack-a-lent, when 'tis upon ill employment!
Eva.
Sir John Falstaff, serve Got, and leave your
desires, and fairies will not pinse you.
Ford.
Well said, fairy Hugh.
Eva.
And leave you your jealousies too, I pray you.
Ford.
I will never mistrust my wife again, till thou
art able to woo her in good English.
Fal.
Have I laid my brain in the sun, and dried 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 frize5 note? 'Tis time I were choked
with a piece of toasted cheese.
Eva.
Seese is not good to give putter: your pelly is
all putter.
Fal.
Seese and putter! have I lived to stand at
the taunt of one that makes fritters of English? This
-- 272 --
is enough to be the decay of lust, and late-walking,
through the realm.
Mrs. Page.
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?
Mrs. Page.
A puffed man?
Page.
Old, cold, withered, and of intolerable entrails?
Ford.
And one that is as slanderous as Satan?
Page.
And as poor as Job?
Ford.
And as wicked as his wife?
Eva.
And given to fornications, and to taverns, and
sack, and wine, and metheglins, and to drinkings, and
swearings, and starings, pribbles and prabbles?
Fal.
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 o'er me: use
me as you will.
Ford.
Marry, sir, we'll bring you to Windsor, to one
master Brook, that you have cozened of money, to
whom you should have been a pander: over and above
that you have suffered, I think, to repay that money
will be a biting affliction6 note
.
Page.
Yet be cheerful, 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 married her daughter.
Mrs. Page.
Doctors doubt that: if Anne Page be my
daughter, she is, by this, doctor Caius' wife.
[Aside.
-- 273 --
Enter Slender.
Slen.
Whoo, ho! ho! father Page!
Page.
Son, how now! how now, son! have you
despatched?
Slen.
Despatched!—I'll make the best in Gloucestershire
know on't; would I were hanged, la, else.
Page.
Of what, son?
Slen.
I came yonder at Eton to marry mistress Anne
Page, and she's a great lubberly boy: if it had not
been i' the church, I would have swinged him, or he
should have swinged 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.
Slen.
What need you tell me that? I think so,
when I took a boy for a girl: if I had been married 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 white7 note, and cried, “mum,”
and she cried “budget,” as Anne and I had appointed;
and yet it was not Anne, but a post-master's boy.
Mrs. Page.
Good George, be not angry: I knew of
your purpose; turned my daughter into green; and,
indeed, she is now with the doctor at the deanery, and
there married.
Enter Doctor Caius.
Caius.
Vere is mistress Page? By gar, I am cozened;
I ha' married un garçon, a boy; un paisan, by
-- 274 --
gar, a boy: it is not Anne Page; by gar, I am
cozened.
Mrs. Page.
Why, did you take her in green?
Caius.
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?
Mrs. Page.
Why went you not with master doctor, maid?
Fent.
You do amaze her: hear the truth of it.
You would have married 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, 11Q0094
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.
Fal.
I am glad, though you have ta'en a special
stand to strike at me, that your arrow hath glanced.
Page.
Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven give thee joy.
What cannot be eschew'd, must be embrac'd.
-- 275 --
Fal.
When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer are chas'd.
Mrs. Page.
Well, I will muse no farther.—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 lie with mistress Ford.
[Exeunt.
