and Recovery, he will never, I think, in the way of wafte, attempt us again, Mrs. Ford. Shall we tell our Husbands how we have ferved him? Mrs. Page. Yes, by all means, if it be but to scrape the Figures out of your Husband's Brain. If they can find in their Hearts the poor unvirtuous fat Knight fhall be any further afflicted, we two will ftill be the Minifters. Mrs. Ford. I'll warrant they'll have him publickly fham'd; and methinks there would be no period to the Jeft, fhould he not be publickly fham'd. Mrs. Page. Come to the Forge with it, then fhape it: I would not have things cool. [Exeunt. SCENE III. Enter Hoft and Bardolph. Bard. Sir, the German defires to have three of your Horses; the Duke himself will be to Morrow at Court, and they are going to meet him. Hoft. What Duke should that be comes fo fecretly? I hear not of him in the Court: Let me speak with the Gentlemen; they fpeak English? Bar. Sir, I'll call them to you. Hoft. They fhall have my Horfes, but I'll make them pay, I'll fawce them. They have had my Houfe a Week at Command; I have turn'd away my other Guests; they muft come off, I'll fawce them, come. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Enter Page, Ford, Mistress Page, Mistress Ford, and Evans. Eva. 'Tis one of the best Discretions of a o'man as ever I did look upon. Page. And did he send you both these Letters at an inftant? Mrs. Page. Within a quarter of an Hour. Ford. Pardon me, Wife. Henceforth do what thou wilt; I rather will fufpe&t the Sun with cold, Than thee with Wantonnefs; now doth thy Honour stand, In him that was of late an Heretick, Page. 'Tis well, 'tis well; no more. Be not extream in Submiffion, as in Offence, Ford. There is no better way than that they spoke of. Page. How? to fend him Word they'll meet him in the Park at Midnight? Fie, fie, he'll never come. Eva. You fay he hath been thrown into the River; 'and has been grievously peaten, as an old o'man; methinks there fhould be Terrors in him, that he fhould not come; methinks his Flesh is punish'd, he fhall have no Defires. Page. So think I too. Mrs. Ford. Devife but how you'll ufe him when he comes; And let us two devife to bring him thither. Mrs. Page. There is an old Tale goes, that Herne the You have heard of fuch a Spirit, and well you know Receiv'd, and did deliver to our Age This Tale of Herne the Hunter for a Truth. Page. Why yet there want not many that do fear Mrs. Ford. Marry this is our Device, That Falstaff at that Oak fhall meet with us. Page. Well, let it not be doubted but he'll come. And in this Shape when you have brought him thither, What fhall be done with him? What is your Plot? Mrs. Page. That likewife we have thought upon, and thus: Nan Page, (my Daughter) and my little Son, And three or four more of their Growth, we'll dress N 2 With With Rounds of waxen Tapers on their Heads, Mrs. Ford. And 'till he tell the Truth, Mrs. Page. The Truth being known, Ford. The Children muft Be practis'd well to this, or they'll ne'er do't. Eva. I will teach the Children their Behaviours; and I will be like a Jack-a-napes alfo, to burn the Knight with my Taber. I'll Ford. That will be excellent. go buy them Vizards. Mrs. Page. My Nan fhall be the Queen of all the Fairies, finely attir'd in a Robe of white. Page. That Silk would I go buy, and in that time And marry her at Eaton. Go, fend to Falstaff straight. Eva. Let us about it, It is admirable Pleafures, and ferry honeft Knaveries. [Exeunt Page, Ford and Evans. Mrs. Page. Go, Mrs. Ford, Send quickly to Sir John, to know his Mind. [Ex. Mrs. Ford. The The Doctor is well mony'd, and his Friends SCENE V. Enter Hoft and Simple. Hoft. What wouldst thou have? Boor, what? Thickskin, fpeak, breathe, difcufs; brief, fhort, quick, fnap. Simp. Marry, Sir, I come to fpeak with Sir John Falstaff, from Mr. Slender. Hoft. There's his Chamber, his Houfe, his Castle, his Standing-bed and Truckle-bed; 'tis painted about with the Story of the Prodigal, fresh and new; go, knock and call; he'll speak like an Anthropophaginian unto thee: Knock, I fay. Simp. There's an old Woman, a fat Woman gone up into his Chamber; I'll be fo bold as ftay, Sir, 'till fhe come down; I come to speak with her indeed. Hoft. Ha! a fat Woman? The Knight may be robb'd: I'll call. Bully-Knight! Bully-Sir John! fpeak from thy Lungs Military Art thou there? It is thine Hoft, thine Ephefian calls. Enter Falftaff. Fal. How now, mine Hoft? Hoft. Here's a Bohemian-Tartar tarries the coming down of thy fat Woman: Let her defcend, Bully, let her defcend; my Chambers are honourable. Fie, Privacy? Fie. Fal. There was, mine Hoft, an old fat Woman even now with me, but she's gone. Simp. Pray you, Sir, was't not the wife Woman of Brainford? Fal. Ay marry was it, Muffel-fhell, what would you with her? Simp. My Mafter, Sir, my Mafter Slender fent to her, feeing her go thro' the Street, to know, Sir, whether one Nym, Sir, that beguil'd him of a Chain, had the Chain, or no. Fal. I fpake with the old Woman about it. Eva. You are a very fimplicity o'man; I pray you peace. What is, Lapis, William? Will. A Stone. Eva. And what is a Stone, William? Will. A Pebble. Eva. No, it is Lapis: I pray you remember in your Prain. Will. Lapis. Eva. That is a good William: What is he, William, that does lend Articles? Will. Articles are borrow'd of the Pronoun, and be thus declin'd, Singulariter Nominativo, hic, hac, hoc. Eva. Nominativo, hig, bag, hog;- pray you mark: Genitivo, hujus: Well, what is your Accufative Cafe? Will. Accufative, hinc. Eva. I pray you have your remembrance, Child, Accufativo, hing, bang, bog. Quic. Hang hog is Latin for Bacon. I warrant you. Eva. Leave you Prabbles, o'man. What is the Focative Cafe, William? Will. O, Vocativo, O. Eva. Remember William, Focative, is caret. Quic. And that's a good Root.: Eva. O'man, forbear. Mrs. Page. Peace. Eva. What is your Genitive Cafe Plural, William ? Wiil. Genitive Cafe? Eva. Ay. Will. Genitive, horum, harum, horum. Quic. 'Vengeance of Ginyes Cafe; fie on her; never name her, Child, if the be a Whore. Eva, For fhame, o'man, Quic. You do ill to teach the Child fuch words: He teaches him to hic, and to hac, which they'll do faft enough of themselves; and to call horum; fie upon you. Eva. O'man, art thou Lunacies? Haft thou no underftandings for thy Cafes, and the Numbers of the Genders? Thou art as foolish Chriftian Creatures as I would defires. Mrs. Page. Prithee hold thy peace. |