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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! 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 vitæ 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! [Exit.

SCENE III.-Windsor Park.
Enter CAIUS and RUGBY.

Caius. Jack Rugby!

Rug. Sir.

Caius. Vat is de clock, Jack?

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. [Runs back afraid.*

1 Knowing himself one. 2 This direction is not in f. e.

Caius. Villainy, 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 montant. 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?

Caius. By gar, he is de coward Jack priest of the vorld; he is not show his face.

Host. Thou art a Castalian-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 Mock-water.

1 The elder has a soft pith. 2 Knight reads, Castilian, KingUrinal. The Spaniards were, of course, in great disfavour with the English when this play was written.

Caius. Mock-vater! vat is dat?

Host. Mock-water, in our English tongue, is valour, bully.

Caius. By gar, then, I have as much mock-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 cavaliero Slender, go you through the town to 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.

[Exeunt PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLender. Caius. By gar, me vill kill de priest, for he speak for a jack-an-ape to Anne Page.

Host. Let him die. Sheathe 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 farm-house a feasting, and thou shall woo her. Curds and cream,' 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 lords, de gentlemen, my patients.

Host. For the which I will be thy adversary toward Anne Page: said I well?

Caius. By gar, 't is good; vell said.

Host. Let us wag then.

Caius. Come at my heels, Jack Rugby.

4 cried game in f. e.

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I-A Field near Frogmore.

Enter Sir HUGH EVANS, with a book, and SIMPLE. Eva. I pray you now, good master Slender's servingman, and friend Simple by your name, which way have you looked for master Caius, that calls himself Doctor of Physic?

1

Sim. Marry, sir, the pit-way, the park-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.

[Retiring.

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!

2

To shallow rivers, to whose falls,
Melodious birds sing madrigals;
There will we make our peds of roses,
And a thousand fragrant posies.

To shallow

[Sings.

Mercy on me! I have a great dispositions to cry. [Sings.

Melodious birds sing madrigals;—

When as I sat in Pabylon,*

And a thousand vagram posies.

To shallow

Sim. [Coming forward.] Yonder he is coming, this way, sir Hugh.

Eva. He's welcome.

To shallow rivers, to whose falls—

[Sings.5

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

2 A quota

1 the petty-ward, the park-ward, every way: in f. e. tion from Marlow's "Passionate Pilgrim." 3 Not in f. e. 4 A line from the old version of Ps. 137. 5 Not in f. e.

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.

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.

Eva. Fery well: what is it?

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 Hibbocrates 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.

Slen. O, sweet Anne Page!

Shal. It appears so, by his weapons.-Keep them asunder-here comes doctor Caius.

Enter Host, CAIUS, and RUGBY.

Page. Nay, good master parson, keep in your weapon. Shal. So do you, good master doctor.

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.

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