« ZurückWeiter »
say, the jealous wittolly knave hath masses of mo. ney; for the which his wife seems to me well-favour. ed. 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 stare him out of his wits; I will awe him with my cudgel: it shall hang like a meteor o'er the cuck. old's horns: master Brook, thou shalt know, I will predominate o'er the peasant, and thou shalt lie with his wife.-Come to me soon at night:
-Ford's a knave, and I will aggravate his stile*; 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! wittolt.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 Welshman with my cheese, an Irishman with my aqua-vitæf 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.
# Add to his title. # Usquebaugh.
+ Contented cuckold.
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!
Enter Caius and Rugby.
Caius. Jack Rugby!
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
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.
Enter Host, Shallow, Slender, and Page.
Host. 'Bless thee, bully doctor.
Caius. Vat be all you, one, two, tree, four, come for?
Host. To see thee fight, to see thee foiv*, to sec thee traverse, to see thee here, to see thee there; to see thee pass thy punto, thy stock, thy reverse, thy distance, thy montántt. Is he dead, my Ethi. opian? is he 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 Castilianf 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 profes. sions: 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 churchnen, 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 Muck-waterg.
Caius. Muck.vater! vat is dat?
• Fence. + Terms in fencing.
Cant term for Spaniard.
Host. Muck-water, in our Englislı tongue, is va. lour, bully.
Caius. By gar, then I have as much muck.vater as de Englishman:-Scurvy jack-dog priest! by gar, me vil cut his ears.
Host. He will clapper-claw thee tightly, bully.
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 lo 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.
[Ereunt Page, Shallow, and Slender. Caius. By gar, me vill kill de priest; for he speak for a jack-an-ape to Aone Page.
Host. Let him die: but, first, sheath thy impa. tience; throw cold water on thy choler: go about the fields with me through Frogmore; I will bring thee where Mrs. Anne Page is, at a farm-house a feasting; and thou shalt woo her: Cry'd game, said I well?
Caius. By gar, me tank you for dat; by gar, I love you; and I shall procure-a you de good guest, de earl, de knight, de lorda, de gentlemen, my patients.
Host. For the which, I will be thy adversary to. wards Anne Page; said I well? Caius. By gar, 'tis good;
Host. Let us wag then.
SCENE I. A Field near Frogmore.
Enter Sir Hugh Evans and Simple. Eva. 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 Physick ?
Sim. Marry, sir, the city.ward, the park-ward, every way; old Windsor way, and every way but the town way.
Eva. I most fehemently desire you, you will also look that way.
Sim. I will, sir.
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 !
Melodious birds sing madrigals;