clothes here, quickly; Where's the cowl-staff?8 look, how you drumble9; 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 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. Eva. This is fery fantastical humours, and jealousies.

Caius. By gar, 'tis no de 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.

A staff for carrying a large tub or basket.

9 Drone.

Unbag the fox.

Mrs. Page. What a taking was he in, when your husband asked who was in the basket?

Mrs. Ford. 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 tomorrow 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. 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.

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!

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.

Ford. Pray you go, master Page.

Eva. I pray you now, remembrance to-morrow on the knave, mine host.

Caius. Dat is good; by gar, vit all my heart. Eva. A knave; to have his gibes and his mock[Exeunt.

eries.

SCENE IV.

A Room in Page's House.

Enter FENTON, and Mistress ANNE PAGE,

Fent. I see, I cannot get thy father's love; Therefore, no more turn me to him, sweet Nan. Anne. Alas! how then?

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.

Yet seek

Gentle master Fenton,
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, Mrs. Quickly; my kinsman shall speak for himself.

Slen. I'll make a shaft or a bolt on't 2: 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.

O, what a world of vile ill-favour'd faults

Looks handsome in three hundred pounds a year!

[Aside. Quick. And how does good master Fenton? Pray you, a word with you.

a shaft was a long arrow, and a bolt, a

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 Glocestershire.

Shal. He will maintain you like a gentlewoman. Slen. Ay, that I will, come cut and long-tail, under the degree of a 'squire.

Shal. He will make you a hundred and fifty pounds jointure.

Anne. Good master Shallow, let him woo for himself.

Shal. Marry, I thank you for it; I thank you for that good comfort. She calls you, coz: I'll leave

you.

Anne. Now, master Slender.

Slen. Now, good mistress Anne.

Anne. What is your

will?

Slen. My will? od's 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?

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 dole3; They can tell you how things go, better than I can: You may ask your father; here he comes.

3 Lot.