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 villanous 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 devil's 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 Welshman with my cheese, an Irishman with my aqua-vitat 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! SCENE III-Windsor Park. Caius. Jack Rugby! Rug. Sir. Caius. Vat is de clock, Jack.? - [Exit. 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. Caius. Villany, 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 montánt.§ Is he dead, my Ethiopian? is he dead, my Francisco? ha, bully! What says my Esculapius? my Galen ? my heart of elder? ha! is he dead, bully Stale? is he dead? * Contented cuckold, † Usquebaugh. Terms in fencing. Fence. Caius. By gar, he is de coward Jack priest of the vorld: he is not show his face. Host. Thou art a Castilian* 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 Muck-water.† Caius. Muck-vater! vat is dat? Host. Muck-water, in our English tongue, is valour, bully. Caius. By gar, then I have as much muck-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. Page. Sir Hugh is there, is he? [Aside to them. 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 jackan-ape to Anne Page. Host. Let him die: but, first, 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 farmhouse a-feasting; and thou shalt woo her: Cry'd game, said 1 well? *Cant term for Spaniard. † Drain of a dunghill. 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 lords, de gentlemen, my patients. Host. For the which, I will be thy adversary towards Anne Page; said I well? Caius. By gar, 'tis good; vell said. Host. Let us wag then. Caius. Come at my heels, Jack Rugby. ACT III. SCENE I-A Field near Frogmore. Enter SIR HUGH EVANS and SIMPLE. [Exeunt. 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 Physic? 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! [Sings. By shallow rivers, to whose falls Mercy on me! I have a great dispositions to cry. Melodious birds sing madrigals ;— When as I sat in Pabylon,t And a thousand fragrant posies. Sim. Yonder he is coming, this way, Sir Hugh. By 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! * Head. † Babylon, the first line of the 139th Psalm. 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. 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 Hibocrates 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. Shal. It appears so, by his weapons:-Keep them asunder ;here comes doctor Caíus. Enter HOST, CAIUS, and RUGBY. Page. Nay, good master parson, keep in your weapon. 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 urinals about your knave's cogscomb, for missing your meetings and appointments. Caius. Diable !-Jack Rugby,-mine Host de Jarterre, 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 judgment by mine Host of the Garter. Host. Peace, I say, Gallia and Gaul, 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 noverbs.-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, lad of peace; follow, follow, follow. Shal. Trust me, a mad host:-Follow, gentlemen, follow. Slen. O, sweet Anne Page! [Exeunt SHAL. SLEN. PAGE, and HOST. Caius. Ha! do I perceive dat? have you make-a de sot* of us? ha, ha! Eva. This is well; he has made us his vlouting-stog.t-I desire you, that we may be friends; and let us knog our prains together, to be revenge on this same scald, 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. SCENE II-The Street in Windsor. Enter MISTRESS PAGE and ROBIN. [Exeunt. 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. 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 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 † Flouting stock. * Fool. |