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Enter Page, Ford, &c. They lay hold on him. Page. Nay, do not fly; I think, we have watch'd

you now;

Will none but Herne, the hunter, ferve your turn? Mrs. Page. I pray you, come; hold up the jeft no

higher.

Now, good Sir John, how like you Windfor wives? See you thefe, husband? do not thefe fair yoaks Become the foreft better than the town?

Ford. Now, Sir, who's a cuckold now ?-Mafter Brook, Falstaff's a knaye, a cuckoldly knave; here are his horns, mafter Brook: and, mafter Brook, he hath enjoyed nothing of Ford's but his buck-bafket, his cudgel, and twenty pounds of money; which must be paid to master Brook; his horses are arrested for it, mafter 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 ex

tant.

Fal. And these are not fairies? I was three or four times in the thought, they were not fairies: and yet the guiltinefs of my mind, the fudden furprize of my powers, drove the groffnefs of the foppery into a receiv'd belief, in defpight of the teeth of all rhime and reafon, that they were fairies. See now, how wit

See you these bufbands? do not thefe fair oaks

:

Become the foreft better than the town?] What oaks, in the name of nonfenfe, do our fagacious editors make Mrs. Page talk of? The paks in the park? But there was no intention of tranfplanting them into the town.-Talis infcitia me quidem pudet, pigetque. The firft folio reads, as the poet intended, yoaks and Mrs. Page's meaning is this. She speaks to her own, and Mrs. Ford's husband, and afks them, if they see the borns in Falstaff's hand; and then, alluding to them as the types of cuckoldom, puts the queftion, whether those yoaks are not more proper in the foreft than in the town, i. e. than in their families, as a reproach to them? THEOBALD.

may

may be made a Jack-a-lent 7, when 'tis upon ill em

ployment!

Eva. Sir John Falstaff, serve Got, and leave your defires, and fairies will not pinfe you.

Ford. Well faid, fairy Hugh.

Eva. And leave your jealoufies alfo, I pray you. Ford. I will never mistruft my wife again, till thou art able to woo her in good English.

Fal. Have I laid my brain in the fun and dried it, that it wants matter to prevent fo grofs o'er-reaching as this? Am I ridden with a Welch goat too? fhall I have a coxcomb of frize? 'tis time I were choak'd with a piece of toafted cheese.

Eva. Seefe is not good to give putter; your pelly is all putter.

Fal. Seefe and putter! have I liv'd to stand in the taunt of one that makes fritters of English? this is enough to be the decay of luft 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

7-how wit may be made a Jack-a-lent,-] A Jack o' Lent appears to have been fome puppet which was throwit at in Lent, like Shrove-tide cocks.

So in the old comedy of Lady Alimony, 1659. "throwing cudgels

"At Jack-a-lents, or Shrove-cocks."

Again, The Wild Goofe Chate of Beaumont and Fletcher : "I would be married fooner to a monkey;

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"Make a Jack o' Lent, and break my fhins
"For untagg'd points, and counters.".

Again, in Ben Jonfon's Tale of a Tub:

¿C -on an Afh-wednesday,

"Where thou didst ftand fix weeks the Jack o' Leniz
For boys to hurl three-penny throws at thee."

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fcruple to hell, that ever the devil could have made you our delight?

Ford. What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax?
Mrs. Page. A puft man?

Page. Old, cold, wither'd, and of intolerable entrails?

Ford. And one that is as flanderous as Satan?
Page. And as poor as Job?

Ford. And as wicked as his wife?

Eva. And given to fornications, and to taverns, and facks, and wines, and metheglins, and to drinkings, and fwearings, and ftarings, pribbles and prabbles?

Fal. Well, I am your theme; you have the ftart of me; I am dejected; I am not able to answer the Welch flannel; ignorance itself is a plummet o'er me: ufe me as you will.

8

Ford. Marry, Sir, we'll bring you to Windsor to one Mr. Brook, that you cozen'd of money, to whom you should have been a pander: over and above that you have fuffer'd, I think, to repay that

be a biting affliction.

money will

9 Mrs. Ford. Nay, husband, let that go to make

amends:

Forgive that fum, and fo we'll all be friends.

8

ignorance itself is a plummet o'er me :-] Though this be perhaps not unintelligible, yet it is an odd way of confeffing his dejection. I fhould wish to read:

ignorance itself has a plume o' me:

That is, I am fo depreffed, that ignorance itfelf plucks me, and decks itself with the fpoils of my weakness. Of the prefent reading, which is probably right, the meaning may be, I am fo enfeebled, that ignorance itself weighs me down and oppreffes me. JOHNSON.

9 Mrs. Ford. Nay, bufband,-] This and the following little fpeech I have inferted from the old quartos. The retrenchment, I prefume, was by the players. Sir John Falftaff is fufficiently punished, in being difapointed and expofed. The expectation of his being profecuted for the twenty pounds, gives the conclufion too tragical a turn. Befides, it is poetical justice that Ford fhould fuftain this lofs, as a fine for his unreasonable jealoufy. THEOBALD.

Ford.

Ford. Well, here's my hand; all's forgiven at last. Page. Yet be cheerful, knight: thou shalt eat a poffet to-night at my houfe; where I will defire thee to laugh at my wife, that now laughs at thee. Tell her, mafter Slender hath married her daughter.

Mrs. Page. Doctors doubt that; if Anne Page be my daughter, fhe is, by this, Doctor Caius' wife.

Enter Slender.

Slen. What ho! ho! father Page.

[Afide.

Page. Son! how now? how now, fon? have dispatch'd?

you

Slen. Difpatch'd! I'll make the best in Gloucesterfhire know on't; would I were hang'd, la, elfe. Page. Of what, fon?

Slen. I came yonder at Eaton to marry mistress Anne Page, and fhe's a great lubberly boy. If it had not been i' the church, I would have fwing'd him, or he fhould have fwing'd me. If I did not think it had been Anne Page, would I might never stir, and 'tis a post-master's boy.

Page. Upon my life then you took the wrong.

Slen. What need you tell me that? I think fo, 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 fhould know my daughter by her gar

ments?

Slen. I went to her in white, and cry'd mum, and fhe cry'd budget, as Anne and I had appointed; and yet it was not Anne, but a poft-mafter's boy.

Eva. Jefhu! Mafter Slender, cannot you fee but marry boys?

1

laugh at my wife,-] The two plots are excellently connected, and the tranfition very artfully made in this speech.

JOHNSON.

Page.

Page. O, I am vex'd at heart. What fhall I do? Mrs. Page. Good George, be not angry: I knew of your purpose, turn'd my daughter into green; and, indeed, she is now with the Doctor at the deanery, and there married,

Enter Caius.

Caius. Ver is mistress Page? By gar, I am cozen'd; I ha' married un garçon, a boy; un paifan, by gar; a boy; it is not Anne Page: by gar, I am cozen'd. Mrs. Page. Why, did you not take her in green? Caius. Ay, be gar, and 'tis a boy: be gar, I'll raise all Windfor.

Ford. This is ftrange! Who hath got the right Anne? Page. My heart mifgives me: here comes mafter 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, fhe and I, long fince contracted,
Are now fo fure, that nothing can diffolve us.
The offence is holy that she hath committed:
And this deceit lofes the name of craft,
Of difobedience, or unduteous title;
Since therein fhe doth evitate and fhun
A thousand irreligious curfed hours,

Which forced marriage would have brought upon het.
Ford. Stand not amaz'd: here is no remedy.-
In love, the heavens themselves do guide the ftate;
Money buys lands, and wives are fold by fate.

Fal.

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