ACT III
SCENE 1. A field near Frogmore.
[Enter SIR HUGH EVANS and SIMPLE.]
EVANS.
I pray you now, good Master Slender's serving-man,
and friend Simple by your name, which way have you
looked for Master Caius, that calls himself doctor of
physic?
SIMPLE.
Marry, sir, the pittie-ward, the park-ward, every
way; old Windsor way, and every way but the town way.
EVANS.
I most fehemently desire you you will also look that
way.
SIMPLE.
I will, Sir.
[Exit.]
EVANS.
Pless my soul, how full of chollors 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 goot opportunities for the 'ork: pless
my soul!
[Sings]
To shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sings madrigals;
There will we make our peds of roses,
And a thousand fragrant posies.
To shallow--
Mercy on me! I have a great dispositions to cry.
[Sings.]
Melodious birds sing madrigals,--
Whenas I sat in Pabylon,--
And a thousand vagram posies.
To shallow,--
[Re-enter SIMPLE.]
SIMPLE.
Yonder he is, coming this way, Sir Hugh.
EVANS.
He's welcome.
[Sings]
To shallow rivers, to whose falls--
Heaven prosper the right!--What weapons is he?
SIMPLE.
No weapons, sir. There comes my master, Master
Shallow, and another gentleman, from Frogmore, over the
stile, this way.
EVANS.
Pray you give me my gown; or else keep it in your
arms. [Reads in a book.]
[Enter PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER.]
SHALLOW.
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.
SLENDER.
[Aside] Ah, sweet Anne Page!
PAGE.
Save you, good Sir Hugh!
EVANS.
Pless you from his mercy sake, all of you!
SHALLOW.
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!
EVANS.
There is reasons and causes for it.
PAGE.
We are come to you to do a good office, Master
Parson.
EVANS.
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.
SHALLOW.
I have lived fourscore years and upward; I never
heard a man of his place, gravity, and learning, so wide of
his own respect.
EVANS.
What is he?
PAGE.
I think you know him: Master Doctor Caius, the
renowned French physician.
EVANS.
Got's will and his passion of my heart! I had as lief
you would tell me of a mess of porridge.
PAGE.
Why?
EVANS.
He has no more knowledge in Hibbocrates and
Galen,--and he is a knave besides; cowardly knave as you
would desires to be acquainted withal.
PAGE.
I warrant you, he's the man should fight with him.
SLENDER.
[Aside] O, sweet Anne Page!
SHALLOW.
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.
SHALLOW.
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 with your ear:
verefore will you not meet-a me?
EVANS.
[Aside to CAIUS.] Pray you use your patience; in
good time.
CAIUS.
By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog, John ape.
EVANS.
[Aside to CAIUS.] 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.
[Aloud.] I will knog your urinals about your knave's cogscomb
for missing your meetings and appointments.
CAIUS.
Diable!--Jack Rugby,--mine Host de Jarretiere,--have I
not stay for him to kill him? Have I not, at de place I did
appoint?
EVANS.
As I am a Christians soul, now, look you, this is the
place appointed. I'll be judgment by mine host of the
Garter.
HOST.
Peace, I say, Gallia and Gaullia; French and Welsh,
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 no-verbs. Give me thy hand, terrestrial;
so;--give me thy hand, celestial; so. Boys of art, I have
deceived you both; 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, lads of peace; follow, follow, follow.
SHALLOW.
Trust me, a mad host!--Follow, gentlemen, follow.
SLENDER.
[Aside] 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?
EVANS.
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, with all my heart. He promise to bring me
where is Anne Page; by gar, he deceive me too.
EVANS.
Well, I will smite his noddles. Pray you follow.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE 2. 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?
ROBIN.
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.
MRS. PAGE.
Be sure of that--two other husbands.
FORD.
Where had you this pretty weathercock?
MRS. PAGE.
I cannot tell what the dickens his name is my
husband had him of. What do you call your knight's
name, sirrah?
ROBIN.
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 mile as easy as a cannon
will shoot point-blank twelve score. He pieces out his wife's
inclination; he gives her folly motion and advantage; and
now she's going to my wife, and Falstaff's boy with her. A
man may hear this shower sing in the wind: and Falstaff's
boy with her! Good plots! They are laid; and our revolted
wives share damnation together. Well; I will take him,
then torture my wife, pluck the borrowed veil of modesty
from the so seeming Mistress Page, divulge Page himself
for a secure and wilful Actaeon; and to these violent proceedings
all my neighbours shall cry aim. [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.
[Enter PAGE, SHALLOW, SLENDER, HOST, SIR HUGH EVANS,
CAIUS, and RUGBY.]
SHALLOW, PAGE, &C.
Well met, Master Ford.
FORD.
Trust me, a good knot; I have good cheer at home,
and I pray you all go with me.
SHALLOW.
I must excuse myself, Master Ford.
SLENDER.
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.
SHALLOW.
We have lingered about a match between Anne Page and my
cousin Slender, and this day we shall have our answer.
SLENDER.
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, be-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
holiday, 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
Pointz; 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.
SHALLOW. 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.]
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 3. A room in FORD'S house.
[Enter MISTRESS FORD and MISTRESS 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 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 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-musket! what news with you?
ROBIN.
My Master Sir John is come in at your back-door,
Mistress Ford, and requests your company.
MRS. PAGE.
You little Jack-a-Lent, have you been true to us?
ROBIN.
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.
[Exit ROBIN.]
Mistress Page, remember you your cue.
MRS. PAGE.
I warrant thee; if I do not act it, hiss me.
[Exit.]
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.]
FALSTAFF.
'Have I caught thee, my heavenly jewel?'
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!
FALSTAFF.
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.
FALSTAFF.
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-tire, 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.
FALSTAFF.
By the Lord, thou art a traitor 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 friend. Come, thou canst not
hide it.
MRS. FORD.
Believe me, there's no such thing in me.
FALSTAFF.
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 hawthorn-buds that come like women in men's
apparel, and smell like Bucklersbury in simple-time; I
cannot; but I love thee, none but thee; and thou deservest it.
MRS. FORD.
Do not betray me, sir; I fear you love Mistress Page.
FALSTAFF.
Thou mightst 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.
FALSTAFF.
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.
ROBIN.
[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.
FALSTAFF.
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.]
[Re-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 are undone for ever!
MRS. FORD.
What's the matter, good Mistress Page?
MRS. PAGE.
O well-a-day, Mistress Ford! having an honest
man to your husband, to give him such cause of suspicion!
MRS. FORD.
What cause of suspicion?
MRS. PAGE.
What cause of suspicion? Out upon you! how
am I mistook in you!
MRS. FORD.
Why, alas, what's the matter?
MRS. PAGE.
Your husband's coming hither, woman, with all
the officers in Windsor, to search for a gentleman that he
says is here now in the house, by your consent, to take an
ill advantage of his absence: you are undone.
MRS. FORD.
[Asise.] Spek louder.--'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 as 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?
FALSTAFF.
[Coming forward] 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?
FALSTAFF.
I love thee and none but thee; help me away: let me creep in
here. I'll never--
[He gets into the basket; they cover him with foul linen.]
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 drumble! 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?
SERVANT. 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. [Locking the door.] So, now
uncape.
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.]
EVANS.
This is fery fantastical humours and jealousies.
CAIUS.
By gar, 'tis no the fashion of France; it is not jealous
in France.
PAGE.
Nay, follow him, gentlemen; see the issue of his
search.
[Exeunt EVANS, PAGE, 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 will 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.
[Aside to MRS. FORD.] Heard you that?
MRS. FORD.
[Aside to MRS. PAGE.] Ay, ay, peace.--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.
FORD.
Ay, ay; I must bear it.
EVANS.
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.
Be gar, nor I too; there is no bodies.
PAGE.
Fie, fie, Master Ford, are you not ashamed? What
spirit, what devil suggests this imagination? I would not ha'
your distemper in this kind for the wealth of Windsor
Castle.
FORD.
'Tis my fault, Master Page: I suffer for it.
EVANS.
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.
EVANS.
If there is one, I shall make two in the company.
CAIUS.
If there be one or two, I shall make-a the turd.
FORD.
Pray you go, Master Page.
EVANS.
I pray you now, remembrance to-morrow on the
lousy knave, mine host.
CAIUS.
Dat is good; by gar, with all my heart.
EVANS.
A lousy knave! to have his gibes and his mockeries!
[Exeunt.]
SCENE 4. A room in PAGE'S house.
[Enter FENTON, ANNE PAGE, and MISTRESS QUICKLY.
MISTRESS QUICKLY stands apart.]
FENTON.
I see I cannot get thy father's love;
Therefore no more turn me to him, sweet Nan.
ANNE.
Alas! how then?
FENTON.
Why, thou must be thyself.
He doth object, I am too great of birth;
And that my state being gall'd with my expense,
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.
FENTON.
No, heaven so speed me in my time to come!
Albeit I will confess thy father's wealth
Was the first motive that I wooed 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 and SLENDER.]
SHALLOW.
Break their talk, Mistress Quickly: my kinsman
shall speak for himself.
SLENDER.
I'll make a shaft or a bolt on 't. 'Slid, 'tis but
venturing.
SHALLOW.
Be not dismayed.
SLENDER.
No, she shall not dismay me. I care not for that,
but that I am afeard.
QUICKLY.
Hark ye; Master Slender would speak a word with you.
ANNE.
I come to him. [Aside.] This is my father's choice.
O, what a world of vile ill-favour'd faults
Looks handsome in three hundred pounds a year!
QUICKLY.
And how does good Master Fenton? Pray you, a
word with you.
SHALLOW.
She's coming; to her, coz. O boy, thou hadst a father!
SLENDER.
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.
SHALLOW.
Mistress Anne, my cousin loves you.
SLENDER.
Ay, that I do; as well as I love any woman in
Gloucestershire.
SHALLOW.
He will maintain you like a gentlewoman.
SLENDER.
Ay, that I will come cut and long-tail, under the
degree of a squire.
SHALLOW.
He will make you a hundred and fifty pounds jointure.
ANNE.
Good Master Shallow, let him woo for himself.
SHALLOW.
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.
SLENDER.
Now, good Mistress Anne.--
ANNE.
What is your will?
SLENDER.
My will! 'od's heartlings, that's a pretty jest
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?
SLENDER.
Truly, for mine own part I would little or nothing
with you. Your father and my uncle hath made motions;
if it be my luck, so; if not, happy man be his dole! They
can tell you how things go better than I can. You may ask
your father; here he comes.
[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.
FENTON.
Nay, Master Page, be not impatient.
MRS. PAGE.
Good Master Fenton, come not to my child.
PAGE.
She is no match for you.
FENTON.
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.]
QUICKLY.
Speak to Mistress Page.
FENTON.
Good Mistress Page, for that I love your daughter
In such a righteous fashion as I do,
Perforce, against all checks, rebukes, and manners,
I must advance the colours of my love
And not retire: let me have your good will.
ANNE.
Good mother, do not marry me to yond fool.
MRS. PAGE.
I mean it not; I seek you a better husband.
QUICKLY.
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.
FENTON.
Farewell, gentle mistress. Farewell, Nan.
[Exeunt MRS. PAGE and ANNE.}
QUICKLY.
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.
FENTON.
I thank thee; and I pray thee, once to-night
Give my sweet Nan this ring. There's for thy pains.
QUICKLY.
Now Heaven send thee good fortune!
[Exit FENTON.]
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.]
SCENE 5. A room in the Garter Inn.
[Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH.]
FALSTAFF.
Bardolph, I say,--
BARDOLPH.
Here, sir.
FALSTAFF.
Go fetch me a quart of sack; put a toast in 't.
[Exit BARDOLPH.]
Have I lived to be carried in a basket, and to be thrown in
the Thames like a barrow of butcher's offal? 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 puppies, 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
had been swelled! I should have been a mountain of
mummy.
[Re-enter BARDOLPH, with the sack.]
BARDOLPH.
Here's Mistress Quickly, sir, to speak with you.
FALSTAFF.
Come, let me pour in some sack to the Thames
water; for my belly's as cold as if I had swallowed
snowballs for pills to cool the reins. Call her in.
BARDOLPH.
Come in, woman.
[Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY.]
QUICKLY.
By your leave. I cry you mercy. Give your
worship good morrow.
FALSTAFF.
Take away these chalices. Go, brew me a pottle
of sack finely.
BARDOLPH.
With eggs, sir?
FALSTAFF.
Simple of itself; I'll no pullet-sperm in my
brewage.
[Exit BARDOLPH.]
How now!
QUICKLY.
Marry, sir, I come to your worship from Mistress Ford.
FALSTAFF.
Mistress Ford! I have had ford enough; I was
thrown into the ford; I have my belly full of ford.
QUICKLY.
Alas the day! good heart, that was not her fault:
she does so take on with her men; they mistook their
erection.
FALSTAFF.
So did I mine, to build upon a foolish woman's promise.
QUICKLY.
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.
FALSTAFF.
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.
QUICKLY.
I will tell her.
FALSTAFF.
Do so. Between nine and ten, sayest thou?
QUICKLY.
Eight and nine, sir.
FALSTAFF.
Well, be gone; I will not miss her.
QUICKLY.
Peace be with you, sir.
[Exit.]
FALSTAFF.
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 disguised.]
FORD.
Bless you, sir!
FALSTAFF.
Now, Master Brook, you come to know what
hath passed between me and Ford's wife?
FORD.
That, indeed, Sir John, is my business.
FALSTAFF.
Master Brook, I will not lie to you: I was at her
house the hour she appointed me.
FORD.
And how sped you, sir?
FALSTAFF.
Very ill-favouredly, Master Brook.
FORD.
How so, sir? did she change her determination?
FALSTAFF.
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?
FALSTAFF.
While I was there.
FORD.
And did he search for you, and could not find you?
FALSTAFF.
You shall hear. As good luck would have it, comes
in one Mistress Page; gives intelligence of Ford's approach;
and, in her invention and Ford's wife's distraction, they
conveyed me into a buck-basket.
FORD.
A buck-basket!
FALSTAFF.
By the Lord, a buck-basket! rammed me in with
foul shirts and smocks, socks, foul stockings, greasy
napkins, that, Master Brook, there was the rankest compound
of villainous smell that ever offended nostril.
FORD.
And how long lay you there?
FALSTAFF.
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.
FALSTAFF.
Master Brook, I will be thrown into Etna, as I
have been into Thames, ere I will leave her thus. Her
husband is this morning gone a-birding; I have received from
her another embassy of meeting; 'twixt eight and nine is
the hour, Master Brook.
FORD.
'Tis past eight already, sir.
FALSTAFF.
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 half-penny purse, nor into
a pepper box; 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.]
