Act III. Scene III.


A Room in FORD’S House.
   
 
Enter MISTRESS FORD and MISTRESS PAGE.
   
  Mrs. Ford.  What, John! what, Robert!   
  Mrs. Page.  Quickly, quickly:—Is the buck-basket—      4
  Mrs. Ford.  I warrant. What, Robin, I say!   
 
Enter Servants with a Basket.
   
  Mrs. Page.  Come, come, come.   
  Mrs. Ford.  Here, set it down.      8
  Mrs. Page.  Give your men the charge; we must be brief.   
  Mrs. Ford.  Marry, as I told you before, John, and Robert, be ready here hard by in the brew-house; and when I suddenly call you, come forth, and without any pause or staggering, take this basket on your shoulders: that done, trudge with it in all haste, and carry it among the whitsters in Datchet-mead, and there empty it in the muddy ditch, close by the Thames side.   
  Mrs. Page.  You will do it?   
  Mrs. Ford.  I have told them over and over; they lack no direction. Be gone, and come when you are called.  [Exeunt Servants.     12
  Mrs. Page.  Here comes little Robin.   
 
Enter ROBIN.
   
  Mrs. Ford.  How now, my eyas-musket! what news with you?   
  Rob.  My master, Sir John, is come in at your back-door, Mistress Ford, and requests your company.     16
  Mrs. Page  You little Jack-a-Lent, have you been true to us?   
  Rob.  Ay, I’ll be sworn. My master knows not of your being here, and hath threatened to put me into everlasting liberty if I tell you of it; for he swears he’ll turn me away.   
  Mrs. Page.  Thou’rt a good boy; this secrecy of thine shall be a tailor to thee and shall make thee a new doublet and hose. I’ll go hide me.   
  Mrs. Ford.  Do so. Go tell thy master I am alone. [Exit ROBIN.] Mistress Page, remember you your cue.     20
  Mrs. Page.  I warrant thee; if I do not act it, hiss me.  [Exit.   
  Mrs. Ford.  Go to, then: we’ll use this unwholesome humidity, this gross watery pumpion; we’ll teach him to know turtles from jays.   
 
Enter FALSTAFF.
   
  Fal.   ‘Have I caught my heavenly jewel?’ Why, now let me die, for I have lived long enough: this is the period of my ambition: O this blessed hour!     24
  Mrs. Ford.  O, sweet Sir John!   
  Fal.  Mistress Ford, I cannot cog, I cannot prate, Mistress Ford. Now shall I sin in my wish: I would thy husband were dead. I’ll speak it before the best lord, I would make thee my lady.   
  Mrs. Ford.  I your lady, Sir John! alas, I should be a pitiful lady.   
  Fal.  Let the court of France show me such another. I see how thine eye would emulate the diamond: thou hast the right arched beauty of the brow that becomes the ship-tire, the tire-valiant, or any tire of Venetian admittance.     28
  Mrs. Ford.  A plain kerchief, Sir John: my brows become nothing else; nor that well neither.   
  Fal.  By the Lord, thou art a traitor to say so: thou wouldst make an absolute courtier; and the firm fixture of thy foot would give an excellent motion to thy gait in a semi-circled farthingale. I see what thou wert, if Fortune thy foe were not, Nature thy friend. Come, thou canst not hide it.   
  Mrs. Ford.  Believe me, there’s no such thing in me.   
  Fal.  What made me love thee? let that persuade thee there’s something extraordinary in thee. Come, I cannot cog and say thou art this and that, like a many of these lisping hawthornbuds, that come like women in men’s apparel, and smell like Bucklersbury in simple-time; I cannot; but I love thee; none but thee; and thou deservest it.     32
  Mrs. Ford.  Do not betray me, sir. I fear you love Mistress Page.   
  Fal.  Thou mightst as well say, I love to walk by the Counter-gate, which is as hateful to me as the reek of a lime-kiln.   
  Mrs. Ford.  Well, heaven knows how I love you; and you shall one day find it.   
  Fal.  Keep in that mind; I’ll deserve it.     36
  Mrs. Ford.  Nay, I must tell you, so you do, or else I could not be in that mind.   
  Rob.  [Within.] Mistress Ford! Mistress Ford! here’s Mistress Page at the door, sweating and blowing and looking wildly, and would needs speak with you presently.   
  Fal.  She shall not see me: I will ensconce me behind the arras.   
  Mrs. Ford.  Pray you, do so: she’s a very tattling woman.  [FALSTAFF hides himself.     40
 
Re-enter MISTRESS PAGE and ROBIN.
   
What’s the matter? how now!   
  Mrs. Page.  O Mistress Ford! what have you done? You’re shamed, you are overthrown, you’re undone for ever!   
  Mrs. Ford.  What’s the matter, good Mistress Page?     44
  Mrs. Page.  O well-a-day, Mistress Ford! having an honest man to your husband, to give him such cause of suspicion!   
  Mrs. Ford.  What cause of suspicion?   
  Mrs. Page.  What cause of suspicion! Out upon you! how am I mistook in you!   
  Mrs. Ford.  Why, alas, what’s the matter?     48
  Mrs. Page.  Your husband’s coming hither, woman, with all the officers of Windsor, to search for a gentleman that he says is here now in the house by your consent, to take an ill advantage of his absence: you are undone.   
  Mrs. Ford.  [Aside.] Speak louder.—’Tis not so, I hope.   
  Mrs. Page.  Pray heaven it be not so, that you have such a man here! but ’tis most certain your husband’s coming with half Windsor at his heels, to search for such a one. I come before to tell you. If you know yourself clear, why, I am glad of it; but if you have a friend here, convey, convey him out. Be not amazed; call all your senses to you: defend your reputation, or bid farewell to your good life for ever.   
  Mrs. Ford.  What shall I do?—There is a gentleman, my dear friend; and I fear not mine own shame so much as his peril: I had rather than a thousand pound he were out of the house.     52
  Mrs. Page.  For shame! never stand ‘you had rather’ and ‘you had rather:’ your husband’s here at hand; bethink you of some conveyance: in the house you cannot hide him. O, how have you deceived me! Look, here is a basket: if he be of any reasonable stature, he may creep in here; and throw foul linen upon him, as if it were going to bucking: or—it is whiting-time—send him by your two men to Datchet-mead.   
  Mrs. Ford.  He’s too big to go in there. What shall I do?   
  Fal.  [Coming forward.] Let me see’t, let me see’t, O, let me see’t! I’ll in, I’ll in. Follow your friend’s counsel. I’ll in.   
  Mrs. Page.  What, Sir John Falstaff! Are these your letters, knight?     56
  Fal.  I love thee, and none but thee; help me away: let me creep in here. I’ll never—  [He gets into the basket; they cover him with foul linen.   
  Mrs. Page.  Help to cover your master, boy. Call your men, Mistress Ford. You dissembling knight!   
  Mrs. Ford.  What, John! Robert! John!  [Exit ROBIN.   
 
Re-enter Servants.
     60
Go take up these clothes here quickly; where’s the cowl-staff? look, how you drumble! carry them to the laundress in Datchet-mead; quickly, come.   
 
Enter FORD, PAGE, CAIUS, and SIR HUGH EVANS.
   
  Ford.  Pray you, come near: if I suspect without cause, why then make sport at me; then let me be your jest; I deserve it. How now! what goes here? whither bear you this?   
  Serv.  To the laundress, forsooth.     64
  Mrs. Ford.  Why, what have you to do whither they bear it? You were best meddle with buck-washing.   
  Ford.  Buck! I would I could wash myself of the buck! Buck, buck, buck! Ay, buck; I warrant you, buck; and of the season too, it shall appear. [Exeunt Servants with the basket.] Gentlemen, I have dreamed to-night; I’ll tell you my dream. Here, here, here be my keys: ascend my chambers; search, seek, find out: I’ll warrant we’ll unkennel the fox. Let me stop this way first. [Locking the door.] So, now uncape.   
  Page.  Good Master Ford, be contented: you wrong yourself too much.   
  Ford.  True, Master Page. Up, gentlemen; you shall see sport anon: follow me, gentlemen.  [Exit.     68
  Eva.  This is fery fantastical humours and jealousies.   
  Caius.  By gar, ’tis no de fashion of France; it is not jealous in France.   
  Page.  Nay, follow him, gentlemen; see the issue of his search.  [Exeunt PAGE, CAIUS, and EVANS.   
  Mrs. Page.  Is there not a double excellency in this?     72
  Mrs. Ford.  I know not which pleases me better; that my husband is deceived, or Sir John.   
  Mrs. Page.  What a taking was he in when your husband asked who was in the basket!   
  Mrs. Ford.  I am half afraid he will have need of washing; so throwing him into the water will do him a benefit.   
  Mrs. Page.   Hang him, dishonest rascal! I would all of the same strain were in the same distress.     76
  Mrs. Ford.  I think my husband hath some special suspicion of Falstaff’s being here; for I never saw him so gross in his jealousy till now.   
  Mrs. Page.  I will lay a plot to try that; and we will yet have more tricks with Falstaff: his dissolute disease will scarce obey this medicine.   
  Mrs. Ford.  Shall we send that foolish carrion Mistress Quickly to him, and excuse his throwing into the water; and give him another hope, to betray him to another punishment?   
  Mrs. Page.  We will do it: let him be sent for to-morrow, eight o’clock, to have amends.     80
 
Re-enter FORD, PAGE, CAIUS, and SIR HUGH EVANS.
   
  Ford.  I cannot find him: may be the knave bragged of that he could not compass.   
  Mrs. Page.  [Aside to MRS. FORD.] Heard you that?   
  Mrs. Ford.  [Aside to MRS. PAGE.] Ay, ay, peace.—You use me well, Master Ford, do you?     84
  Ford.  Ay, I do so.   
  Mrs. Ford.  Heaven make you better than your thoughts!   
  Ford.  Amen!   
  Mrs. Page.  You do yourself mighty wrong, Master Ford.     88
  Ford.  Ay, ay; I must hear it.   
  Eva.  If there pe any pody in the house, and in the chambers, and in the coffers, and in the presses, heaven forgive my sins at the day of judgment!   
  Caius.  By gar, nor I too, dere is no bodies.   
  Page.  Fie, fie, Master Ford! are you not ashamed? What spirit, what devil suggests this imagination? I would not ha’ your distemper in this kind for the wealth of Windsor Castle.     92
  Ford.  ’Tis my fault, Master Page: I suffer for it.   
  Eva.  You suffer for a pad conscience: your wife is as honest a ’omans as I will desires among five thousand, and five hundred too.   
  Caius.  By gar, I see ’tis an honest woman.   
  Ford.  Well; I promised you a dinner. Come, come, walk in the Park: J pray you, pardon me; I will hereafter make known to you why I have done this. Come, wife; come, Mistress Page. I pray you, pardon me; pray heartily, pardon me.     96
  Page.  Let’s go in, gentlemen; but, trust me, we’ll mock him. I do invite you to-morrow morning to my house to breakfast; after, we’ll a-birding together: I have a fine hawk for the bush. Shall it be so?   
  Ford.  Any thing.   
  Eva.  If there is one, I shall make two in the company.   
  Caius.  If dere be one or two, I shall make-a le turd.    100
  Ford.  Pray you go, Master Page.   
  Eva.  I pray you now, remembrance tomorrow on the lousy knave, mine host.   
  Caius.  Dat is good; by gar, vit all my heart.   
  Eva.  A lousy knave! to have his gibes and his mockeries!  [Exeunt.    104

Act III. Scene IV.


A Room in PAGE’S House.
   
 
Enter FENTON, ANNE PAGE, and MISTRESS QUICKLY. MISTRESS QUICKLY stands apart.
   
  Fent.  I see I cannot get thy father’s love;   
Therefore no more turn me to him, sweet Nan.      4
  Anne.  Alas! how then?   
  Fent.        Why, thou must be thyself.   
He doth object, I am too great of birth,   
And that my state being gall’d with my expense,      8
I seek to heal it only by his wealth.   
Besides these, other bars he lays before me,   
My riots past, my wild societies;   
And tells me ’tis a thing impossible     12
I should love thee but as a property.   
  Anne.  May be he tells you true.   
  Fent.  No, heaven so speed me in my time to come!   
Albeit I will confess thy father’s wealth     16
Was the first motive that I woo’d thee, Anne:   
Yet, wooing thee, I found thee of more value   
Than stamps in gold or sums in sealed bags;   
And ’tis the very riches of thyself     20
That now I aim at.   
  Anne.        Gentle Master Fenton,   
Yet seek my father’s love; still seek it, sir:   
If opportunity and humblest suit     24
Cannot attain it, why, then,—hark you hither.  [They converse apart.   
 
Enter SHALLOW and SLENDER.
   
  Shal.  Break their talk, Mistress Quickly: my kinsman shall speak for himself.   
  Slen.  I’ll make a shaft or a bolt on’t. ’Slid, ’tis but venturing.     28
  Shal.  Be not dismayed.   
  Slen.  No, she shall not dismay me: I care not for that, but that I am afeard.   
  Quick.  Hark ye; Master Slender would speak a word with you.   
  Anne.  I come to him. [Aside.] This is my father’s choice.     32
O, what a world of vile ill-favour’d faults   
Looks handsome in three hundred pounds a year!   
  Quick.  And how does good Master Fenton? Pray you, a word with you.   
  Shal.  She’s coming; to her, coz. O boy, thou hadst a father!     36
  Slen.  I had a father, Mistress Anne; my uncle can tell you good jests of him. Pray you, uncle, tell Mistress Anne the jest, how my father stole two geese out of a pen, good uncle.   
  Shal.  Mistress Anne, my cousin loves you.   
  Slen.  Ay, that I do; as well as I love any woman in Glostershire.   
  Shal.  He will maintain you like a gentlewoman.     40
  Slen.  Ay, that I will, come cut and long-tail, under the degree of a squire.   
  Shal.  He will make you a hundred and fifty pounds jointure.   
  Anne.  Good Master Shallow, let him woo for himself.   
  Shal.  Marry, I thank you for it; I thank you for that good comfort. She calls you, coz: I’ll leave you.     44
  Anne.  Now, Master Slender.   
  Slen.  Now, good Mistress Anne.—   
  Anne.  What is your will?   
  Slen.  My will? od’s heartlings! that’s a pretty jest, indeed! I ne’er made my will yet, I thank heaven; I am not such a sickly creature, I give heaven praise.     48
  Anne.  I mean, Master Slender, what would you with me?   
  Slen.  Truly, for mine own part, I would little or nothing with you. Your father and my uncle have made motions: if it be my luck, so; if not, happy man be his dole! They can tell you how things go better than I can: you may ask your father; here he comes.   
 
Enter PAGE and MISTRESS PAGE.
   
  Page.  Now, Master Slender: love him, daughter Anne.     52
Why, how now! what does Master Fenton here?   
You wrong me, sir, thus still to haunt my house:   
I told you, sir, my daughter is dispos’d of.   
  Fent.  Nay, Master Page, be not impatient.     56
  Mrs. Page.  Good Master Fenton, come not to my child.   
  Page.  She is no match for you.   
  Fent.  Sir, will you hear me?   
  Page.        No, good Master Fenton.     60
Come, Master Shallow; come, son Slender, in.   
Knowing my mind, you wrong me, Master Fenton.  [Exeunt PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER.   
  Quick.  Speak to Mistress Page.   
  Fent.  Good Mistress Page, for that I love your daughter     64
In such a righteous fashion as I do,   
Perforce, against all checks, rebukes and manners,   
I must advance the colours of my love   
And not retire: let me have your good will.     68
  Anne.  Good mother, do not marry me to yond fool.   
  Mrs. Page.  I mean it not; I seek you a better husband.   
  Quick.  That’s my master, Master doctor.   
  Anne.  Alas! I had rather be set quick i’ the earth,     72
And bowl’d to death with turnips.   
  Mrs. Page.  Come, trouble not yourself. Good Master Fenton,   
I will not be your friend nor enemy:   
My daughter will I question how she loves you,     76
And as I find her, so am I affected.   
’Till then, farewell, sir: she must needs go in;   
Her father will be angry.   
  Fent  Farewell, gentle mistress. Farewell, Nan.  [Exeunt MISTRESS PAGE and ANNE.     80
  Quick.  This is my doing, now: ‘Nay,’ said I, ‘will you cast away your child on a fool, and a physician? Look on Master Fenton.’ This is my doing.   
  Fent.  I thank thee: and I pray thee, once to-night   
Give my sweet Nan this ring. There’s for thy pains.   
  Quick.  Now heaven send thee good fortune! [Exit FENTON.] A kind heart he hath: a woman would run through fire and water for such a kind heart. But yet I would my master had Mistress Anne; or I would Master Slender had her; or, in sooth, I would Master Fenton had her. I will do what I can for them all three, for so I have promised, and I’ll be as good as my word; but speciously for Master Fenton. Well, I must of another errand to Sir John Falstaff from my two mistresses: what a beast am I to slack it!  [Exit.

Act III. Scene V.


A Room in the Garter Inn.
   
 
Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH.
   
  Fal.  Bardolph, I say,—   
  Bard.  Here, sir.      4
  Fal.  Go fetch me a quart of sack; put a toast in’t. [Exit BARD.] Have I lived to be carried in a basket, and to be thrown in the Thames like a barrow of butcher’s offal? Well, if I be served such another trick, I’ll have my brains ta’en out, and buttered, and give them to a dog for a new year’s gift. The rogues slighted me into the river with as little remorse as they would have drowned a blind bitch’s puppies, fifteen i’ the litter; and you may know by my size that I have a kind of alacrity in sinking: if the bottom were as deep as hell, I should down. I had been drowned but that the shore was shelvy and shallow; a death that I abhor, for the water swells a man, and what a thing should I have been when I had been swelled! I should have been a mountain of mummy.   
 
Re-enter BARDOLPH, with the sack.
   
  Bard.  Here’s Mistress Quickly, sir, to speak with you.   
  Fal.  Come, let me pour in some sack to the Thames water, for my belly’s as cold as if I had swallowed snowballs for pills to cool the reins. Call her in.      8
  Bard.  Come in, woman.   
 
Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY.
   
  Quick.  By your leave. I cry you mercy: give your worship good morrow.   
  Fal.  Take away these chalices. Go brew me a pottle of sack finely.     12
  Bard.  With eggs, sir?   
  Fal.  Simple of itself; I’ll no pullet-sperm in my brewage. [Exit BARDOLPH.]—How now!   
  Quick.  Marry, sir, I come to your worship from Mistress Ford.   
  Fal.  Mistress Ford! I have had ford enough; I was thrown into the ford; I have my belly full of ford.     16
  Quick.  Alas the day! good heart, that was not her fault: she does so take on with her men; they mistook their erection.   
  Fal.  So did I mine, to build upon a foolish woman’s promise.   
  Quick.  Well, she laments, sir, for it, that it would yearn your heart to see it. Her husband goes this morning a-birding: she desires you once more to come to her between eight and nine. I must carry her word quickly: she’ll make you amends, I warrant you.   
  Fal.  Well, I will visit her: tell her so; and bid her think what a man is: let her consider his frailty, and then judge of my merit.     20
  Quick.  I will tell her.   
  Fal.  Do so. Between nine and ten, sayest thou?   
  Quick.  Eight and nine, sir.   
  Fal.  Well, be gone: I will not miss her.     24
  Quick.  Peace be with you, sir.  [Exit.   
  Fal.  I marvel I hear not of Master Brook; he sent me word to stay within. I like his money well. O! here he comes.   
 
Enter FORD.
   
  Ford.  Bless you, sir!     28
  Fal.  Now, Master Brook, you come to know what hath passed between me and Ford’s wife?   
  Ford.  That, indeed, Sir John, is my business.   
  Fal.  Master Brook, I will not lie to you: I was at her house the hour she appointed me.   
  Ford.  And how sped you, sir?     32
  Fal.  Very ill-favouredly, Master Brook.   
  Ford.  How so, sir? did she change her determination?   
  Fal.  No, Master Brook; but the peaking cornuto her husband, Master Brook, dwelling in a continual ’larum of jealousy, comes me in the instant of our encounter, after we had embraced, kissed, protested, and, as it were, spoke the prologue of our comedy; and at his heels a rabble of his companions, thither provoked and instigated by his distemper, and, forsooth, to search his house for his wife’s love.   
  Ford.  What! while you were there?     36
  Fal.  While I was there.   
  Ford.  And did he search for you, and could not find you?   
  Fal.  You shall hear. As good luck would have it, comes in one Mistress Page; gives intelligence of Ford’s approach; and in her invention, and Ford’s wife’s distraction, they conveyed me into a buck-basket.   
  Ford.  A buck-basket!     40
  Fal.  By the Lord, a buck-basket! rammed me in with foul shirts and smocks, socks, foul stockings, greasy napkins; that, Master Brook, there was the rankest compound of villanous smell that ever offended nostril.   
  Ford.  And how long lay you there?   
  Fal.  Nay, you shall hear, Master Brook, what I have suffered to bring this woman to evil for your good. Being thus crammed in the basket, a couple of Ford’s knaves, his hinds, were called forth by their mistress to carry me in the name of foul clothes to Datchet-lane: they took me on their shoulders; met the jealous knave their master in the door, who asked them once or twice what they had in their basket. I quaked for fear lest the lunatic knave would have searched it; but Fate, ordaining he should be a cuckold, held his hand. Well; on went he for a search, and away went I for foul clothes. But mark the sequel, Master Brook: I suffered the pangs of three several deaths: first, an intolerable fright, to be detected with a jealous rotten bell-wether; next, to be compassed, like a good bilbo, in the circumference of a peck, hilt to point, heel to head; and then, to be stopped in, like a strong distillation, with stinking clothes that fretted in their own grease: think of that, a man of my kidney, think of that, that am as subject to heat as butter; a man of continual dissolution and thaw: it was a miracle to ’scape suffocation. And in the height of this bath, when I was more than half stewed in grease, like a Dutch dish, to be thrown into the Thames, and cooled, glowing hot, in that surge, like a horse-shoe; think of that, hissing hot, think of that, Master Brook!   
  Ford.  In good sadness, sir, I am sorry that for my sake you have suffered all this. My suit then is desperate; you’ll undertake her no more?     44
  Fal.  Master Brook, I will be thrown into Etna, as I have been into Thames, ere I will leave her thus. Her husband is this morning gone a-birding: I have received from her another embassy of meeting; ’twist eight and nine is the hour, Master Brook.   
  Ford.  ’Tis past eight already, sir.   
  Fal.  Is it? I will then address me to my appointment. Come to me at your convenient leisure, and you shall know how I speed, and the conclusion shall be crowned with your enjoying her: adieu. You shall have her, Master Brook; Master Brook, you shall cuckold Ford.  [Exit.   
  Ford.  Hum! ha! is this a vision? is this a dream? do I sleep? Master Ford, awake! awake, Master Ford! there’s a hole made in your best coat, Master Ford. This ’tis to be married: this ’tis to have linen and buck-baskets! Well, I will proclaim myself what I am: I will now take the lecher; he is at my house; he cannot ’scape me; ’tis impossible he should; he cannot creep into a half-penny purse, nor into a pepper-box; but, lest the devil that guides him should aid him, I will search impossible places. Though what I am I cannot avoid, yet to be what I would not, shall not make me tame: if I have horns to make me mad, let the proverb go with me; I’ll be horn-mad.  [Exit.     48

Act IV. Scene I.


The Street.
   
 
Enter MISTRESS PAGE, MISTRESS QUICKLY, and WILLIAM.
   
  Mrs. Page.  Is he at Master Ford’s already, thinkest thou?   
  Quick.  Sure he is by this, or will be presently; but truly, he is very courageous mad about his throwing into the water. Mistress Ford desires you to come suddenly.      4
  Mrs. Page.  I’ll be with her by and by: I’ll but bring my young man here to school. Look, where his master comes; ’tis a playing-day, I see.   
 
Enter SIR HUGH EVANS.
   
How now, Sir Hugh! no school to-day?   
  Eva.  No; Master Slender is get the boys leave to play.      8
  Quick.  Blessing of his heart!   
  Mrs. Page.  Sir Hugh, my husband says my son profits nothing in the world at his book: I pray you, ask him some questions in his accidence.   
  Eva.  Come hither, William; hold up your head; come.   
  Mrs. Page.  Come on, sirrah; hold up your head; answer your master, be not afraid.     12
  Eva.  William, how many numbers is in nouns?   
  Will.  Two.   
  Quick.  Truly, I thought there had been one number more, because they say, ‘Od’s nouns.’   
  Eva.  Peace your tattlings! What is fair, William?     16
  Will.  Pulcher.   
  Quick.  Polecats! there are fairer things than polecats, sure.   
  Eva.  You are a very simplicity ’oman: I pray you peace. What is lapis, William?   
  Will.  A stone.     20
  Eva.  And what is a stone, William?   
  Will.  A pebble.   
  Eva.  No, it is lapis: I pray you remember in your prain.   
  Will.  Lapis.     24
  Eva.  That is a good William. What is he, William, that does lend articles?   
  Will.  Articles are borrowed of the pronoun, and be thus declined, Singulariter, nominativo, hic, hœc, hoc.   
  Eva.  Nominativo, hig, hag, hog; pray you, mark: genitivo, hujus. Well, what is your accusative case?   
  Will.  Accusativo, hinc.     28
  Eva.  I pray you, have your remembrance, child; accusativo, hung, hang, hog.   
  Quick.  Hang hog is Latin for bacon, I warrant you.   
  Eva.  Leave your prabbles, ’oman. What is the focative case, William?   
  Will.  O vocativo, O.     32
  Eva.  Remember, William; focative is caret.   
  Quick.  And that’s a good root.   
  Eva.  ’Oman, forbear.   
  Mrs. Page.  Peace!     36
  Eva.  What is your genitive case plural, William?   
  Will.  Genitive case?   
  Eva.  Ay.   
  Will.  Genitive, horum, harum, horum.     40
  Quick.  Vengeance of Jenny’s case! fie on her! Never name her, child, if she be a whore.   
  Eva.  For shame, ’oman!   
  Quick.  You do ill to teach the child such words. He teaches him to hick and to hack, which they’ll do fast enough of themselves, and to call ‘horum?’ fie upon you!   
  Eva.  ’Oman, art thou lunatics? hast thou no understandings for thy cases and the numbers and the genders? Thou art as foolish Christian creatures as I would desires.     44
  Mrs. Page.  Prithee, hold thy peace.   
  Eva.  Show me now, William, some declensions of your pronouns.   
  Will.  Forsooth, I have forgot.   
  Eva.  It is qui, quœ, quod; if you forget your quis, your quœs, and your quods, you must be preeches. Go your ways and play; go.     48
  Mrs. Page.  He is a better scholar than I thought he was.   
  Eva.  He is a good sprag memory. Farewell, Mistress Page.   
  Mrs. Page.  Adieu, good Sir Hugh. [Exit SIR HUGH.] Get you home, boy. Come, we stay too long.  [Exeunt.

Act IV. Scene II.


A Room in FORT’S House.
   
 
Enter FALSTAFF and MISTRESS FORD.
   
  Fal.  Mistress Ford, your sorrow hath eaten up my sufferance. I see you are obsequious in your love, and I profess requital to a hair’s breadth; not only, Mistress Ford, in the simple office of love, but in all the accoutrement, complement and ceremony of it. But are you sure of your husband now?   
  Mrs. Ford.  He’s a-birding, sweet Sir John.      4
  Mrs. Page.  [Within.] What ho! gossip Ford! what ho!   
  Mrs. Ford.  Step into the chamber, Sir John.  [Exit FALSTAFF.   
 
Enter MISTRESS PAGE.
   
  Mrs. Page.  How now, sweetheart! who’s at home besides yourself?      8
  Mrs. Ford.  Why, none but mine own people.   
  Mrs. Page.  Indeed!   
  Mrs. Ford.  No, certainly.—[Aside to her.] Speak louder.   
  Mrs. Page.  Truly, I am so glad you have nobody here.     12
  Mrs. Ford.  Why?   
  Mrs. Page.  Why, woman, your husband is in his old lunes again: he so takes on yonder with my husband; so rails against all married mankind; so curses all Eve’s daughters, of what complexion soever; and so buffets himself on the forehead, crying, ‘Peer out, peer out!’ that any madness I ever yet beheld seemed but tameness, civility and patience, to this his distemper he is in now. I am glad the fat knight is not here.   
  Mrs. Ford.  Why, does he talk of him?   
  Mrs. Page.  Of none but him; and swears he was carried out, the last time he searched for him, in a basket: protests to my husband he is now here, and hath drawn him and the rest of their company from their sport, to make another experiment of his suspicion. But I am glad the knight is not here; now he shall see his own foolery.     16
  Mrs. Ford.  How near is he, Mistress Page?   
  Mrs. Page.  Hard by; at street end; he will be here anon.   
  Mrs. Ford.  I am undone! the knight is here.   
  Mrs. Page.  Why then you are utterly shamed, and he’s but a dead man. What a woman are you! Away with him, away with him! better shame than murder.     20
  Mrs. Ford.  Which way should he go? how should I bestow him? Shall I put him into the basket again?   
 
Re-enter FALSTAFF.
   
  Fal.  No, I’ll come no more i’ the basket. May I not go out ere he come?   
  Mrs. Page.  Alas! three of Master Ford’s brothers watch the door with pistols, that none shall issue out; otherwise you might slip away ere he came. But what make you here?     24
  Fal.  What shall I do? I’ll creep up into the chimney.   
  Mrs. Ford.  There they always use to discharge their birding-pieces.   
  Mrs. Page.  Creep into the kiln-hole.   
  Fal.  Where is it?     28
  Mrs. Ford.  He will seek there, on my word. Neither press, coffer, chest, trunk, well, vault, but he hath an abstract for the remembrance of such places, and goes to them by his note: there is no hiding you in the house.   
  Fal.  I’ll go out, then.   
  Mrs. Page.  If you go out in your own semblance, you die, Sir John. Unless you go out disguised,—   
  Mrs. Ford.  How might we disguise him?     32
  Mrs. Page.  Alas the day! I know not. There is no woman’s gown big enough for him; otherwise, he might put on a hat, a muffler, and a kerchief, and so escape.   
  Fal.  Good hearts, devise something: any extremity rather than a mischief.   
  Mrs. Ford.  My maid’s aunt, the fat woman of Brainford, has a gown above.   
  Mrs. Page.  On my word, it will serve him; she’s as big as he is: and there’s her thrummed hat and her muffler too. Run up, Sir John.     36
  Mrs. Ford.  Go, go, sweet Sir John: Mistress Page and I will look some linen for your head.   
  Mrs. Page.  Quick, quick! we’ll come dress you straight; put on the gown the while.  [Exit FALSTAFF.   
  Mrs. Ford.  I would my husband would meet him in this shape: he cannot abide the old woman of Brainford; he swears she’s a witch; forbade her my house, and hath threatened to beat her.   
  Mrs. Page.  Heaven guide him to thy husband’s cudgel, and the devil guide his cudgel afterwards!     40
  Mrs. Ford.  But is my husband coming?   
  Mrs. Page.  Ay, in good sadness, is he; and talks of the basket too, howsoever he hath had intelligence.   
  Mrs. Ford.  We’ll try that; for I’ll appoint my men to carry the basket again, to meet him at the door with it, as they did last time.   
  Mrs. Page.  Nay, but he’ll be here presently: let’s go dress him like the witch of Brainford.     44
  Mrs. Ford.  I’ll first direct my men what they shall do with the basket. Go up; I’ll bring linen for him straight.  [Exit.   
  Mrs. Page.  Hang him, dishonest varlet! we cannot misuse him enough.   
We’ll leave a proof, by that which we will do,   
Wives may be merry, and yet honest too:     48
We do not act that often jest and laugh;   
Tis old, but true, ‘Still swine eats all the draff.’  [Exit.   
 
Re-enter MISTRESS FORD, with two Servants.
   
  Mrs. Ford.  Go, sirs, take the basket again on your shoulders: your master is hard at door; if he bid you set it down, obey him. Quickly; dispatch.  [Exit.     52
  First Serv.  Come, come, take it up.   
  Sec. Serv.  Pray heaven, it be not full of knight again.   
  First Serv.  I hope not; I had as lief bear so much lead.   
 
Enter FORD, PAGE, SHALLOW, CAIUS, and SIR HUGH EVANS.
     56
  Ford.  Ay, but if it prove true, Master Page, have you any way then to unfool me again? Set down the basket, villains. Somebody call my wife. Youth in a basket! O you panderly rascals! there’s a knot, a ging, a pack, a conspiracy against me: now shall the devil be shamed. What, wife, I say! Come, come forth! Behold what honest clothes you send forth to bleaching!   
  Page.  Why, this passes! Master Ford, you are not to go loose any longer; you must be pinioned.   
  Eva.  Why, this is lunatics! this is mad as a mad dog!   
  Shal.  Indeed, Master Ford, this is not well, indeed.     60
  Ford.  So say I too, sir.—   
 
Re-enter MISTRESS FORD.
   
Come hither, Mistress Ford, the honest woman, the modest wife, the virtuous creature, that hath the jealous fool to her husband! I suspect without cause, mistress, do I?   
  Mrs. Ford.  Heaven be my witness, you do, if you suspect me in any dishonesty.     64
  Ford.  Well said, brazen-face! hold it out. Come forth, sirrah!  [Pulls the clothes out of the basket.   
  Page.  This passes!   
  Mrs. Ford.  Are you not ashamed? let the clothes alone.   
  Ford.  I shall find you anon.     68
  Eva.  ’Tis unreasonable. Will you take up your wife’s clothes? Come away.   
  Ford.  Empty the basket, I say!   
  Mrs. Ford.  Why, man, why?   
  Ford.  Master Page, as I am an honest man, there was one conveyed out of my house yesterday in this basket: why may not he be there again? In my house I am sure he is: my intelligence is true; my jealousy is reasonable. Pluck me out all the linen.     72
  Mrs. Ford.  If you find a man there he shall die a flea’s death.   
  Page.  Here’s no man.   
  Shal.  By my fidelity, this is not well, Master Ford; this wrongs you.   
  Eva.  Master Ford, you must pray, and not follow the imaginations of your own heart: this is jealousies.     76
  Ford.  Well, he’s not here I seek for.   
  Page.  No, nor nowhere else but in your brain.  [Servants carry away the basket.   
  Ford.  Help to search my house this one time: if I find not what I seek, show no colour for my extremity; let me for ever be your table-sport; let them say of me, ‘As jealous as Ford, that searched a hollow walnut for his wife’s leman.’ Satisfy me once more; once more search with me.   
  Mrs. Ford.  What ho, Mistress Page! come you and the old woman down; my husband will come into the chamber.     80
  Ford.  Old woman! What old woman’s that?   
  Mrs. Ford.  Why, it is my maid’s aunt of Brainford.   
  Ford.  A witch, a quean, an old cozening quean! Have I not forbid her my house? She comes of errands, does she? We are simple men; we do not know what’s brought to pass under the profession of fortune-telling. She works by charms, by spells, by the figure, and such daubery as this is, beyond our element: we know nothing. Come down, you witch, you hag, you; come down, I say!   
  Mrs. Ford.  Nay, good, sweet husband! good gentlemen, let him not strike the old woman.     84
 
Enter FALSTAFF in women’s clothes, led by MISTRESS PAGE.
   
  Mrs. Page.  Come, Mother Prat; come, give me your hand.   
  Ford.  I’ll ‘prat’ her.—[Beats him.] Out of my door, you witch, you rag, you baggage, you polecat, you ronyon! out, out! I’ll conjure you, I’ll fortune-tell you.  [Exit FALSTAFF.   
  Mrs. Page.  Are you not ashamed? I think you have killed the poor woman.     88
  Mrs. Ford.  Nay, he will do it. ’Tis a goodly credit for you.   
  Ford.  Hang her, witch!   
  Eva.  By yea and no, I think the ’oman is a witch indeed: I like not when a ’oman has a great peard; I spy a great peard under her muffler.   
  Ford.  Will you follow, gentlemen? I beseech you, follow: see but the issue of my jealousy. If I cry out thus upon no trail, never trust me when I open again.     92
  Page.  Let’s obey his humour a little further. Come, gentlemen.  [Exeunt FORD, PAGE, SHALLOW, CAIUS, and EVANS.   
  Mrs. Page.  Trust me, he beat him most pitifully.   
  Mrs. Ford.  Nay, by the mass, that he did not; he beat him most unpitifully methought.   
  Mrs. Page.  I’ll have the cudgel hallowed and hung o’er the altar: it hath done meritorious service.     96
  Mrs. Ford.  What think you? May we, with the warrant of womanhood and the witness of a good conscience, pursue him with any further revenge?   
  Mrs. Page.  The spirit of wantonness is, sure, scared out of him: if the devil have him not in fee-simple, with fine and recovery, he will never, I think, in the way of waste, attempt us again.   
  Mrs. Ford.  Shall we tell our husbands how we have served him?   
  Mrs. Page.  Yes, by all means; if it be but to scrape the figures out of your husband’s brains. If they can find in their hearts the poor unvirtuous fat knight shall be any further afflicted, we two will still be the ministers.    100
  Mrs. Ford.  I’ll warrant they’ll have him publicly shamed, and methinks there would be no period to the jest, should he not be publicly shamed.   
  Mrs. Page.  Come, to the forge with it then; shape it: I would not have things cool.  [Exeunt.   

Act IV. Scene III.


A Room in the Garter Inn.
   
 
Enter Host and BARDOLPH.
   
  Bard.  Sir, the Germans desire to have three of your horses: the duke himself will be to-morrow at court, and they are going to meet him.   
  Host.  What duke should that be comes so secretly? I hear not of him in the court. Let me speak with the gentlemen; they speak English?      4
  Bard.  Ay, sir; I’ll call them to you.   
  Host.  They shall have my horses, but I’ll make them pay; I’ll sauce them: they have had my house a week at command; I have turned away my other guests: they must come off; I’ll sauce them. Come.  [Exeunt.   

Act IV. Scene IV.


A Room in FORD’S House.
   
 
Enter PAGE, FORD, MISTRESS PAGE, MISTRESS FORD, and SIR HUGH EVANS.
   
  Eva.  ’Tis one of the pest discretions of a ’oman as ever I did look upon.   
  Page.  And did he send you both these letters at an instant?      4
  Mrs. Page.  Within a quarter of an hour.   
  Ford.  Pardon me, wife. Henceforth do what thou wilt;   
I rather will suspect the sun with cold   
Than thee with wantonness: now doth thy honour stand,      8
In him that was of late an heretic,   
As firm as faith.   
  Page.        ’Tis well, ’tis well; no more.   
Be not as extreme in submission     12
As in offence;   
But let our plot go forward: let our wives   
Yet once again, to make us public sport,   
Appoint a meeting with this old fat fellow,     16
Where we may take him and disgrace him for it.   
  Ford.  There is no better way than that they spoke of.   
  Page.  How? to send him word they’ll meet him in the Park at midnight? Fie, fie! he’ll never come.   
  Eva.  You say he has been thrown into the rivers, and has been grievously peaten as an old ’oman: methinks there should be terrors in him that he should not come; methinks his flesh is punished, he shall have no desires.     20
  Page.  So think I too.   
  Mrs. Ford.  Devise but how you’ll use him when he comes,   
And let us two devise to bring him thither.   
  Mrs. Page.  There is an old tale goes that Herne the hunter,     24
Sometime a keeper here in Windsor forest,   
Doth all the winter-time, at still midnight,   
Walk round about an oak, with great ragg’d horns;   
And there he blasts the tree, and takes the cattle,     28
And makes milch-kine yield blood, and shakes a chain   
In a most hideous and dreadful manner:   
You have heard of such a spirit, and well you know   
The superstitious idle-headed eld     32
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   
In deep of night to walk by this Herne’s oak.     36
But what of this?   
  Mrs. Ford.        Marry, this is our device;   
That Falstaff at that oak shall meet with us,   
Disguis’d like Herne with huge horns on his head.     40
  Page.  Well, let it not be doubted but he’ll come,   
And in this shape when you have brought him thither,   
What shall be done with him? what is your plot?   
  Mrs. Page.  That likewise have we thought upon, and thus:     44
Nan Page my daughter, and my little son,   
And three or four more of their growth, we’ll dress   
Like urchins, ouphs and fairies, green and white,   
With rounds of waxen tapers on their heads,     48
And rattles in their hands. Upon a sudden,   
As Falstaff, she, and I, are newly met,   
Let them from forth a sawpit rush at once   
With some diffused song: upon their sight,     52
We two in great amazedness will fly:   
Then let them all encircle him about,   
And, fairy-like, to-pinch the unclean knight;   
And ask him why, that hour of fairy revel,     56
In their so sacred paths he dares to tread   
In shape profane.   
  Mrs. Ford.        And till he tell the truth,   
Let the supposed fairies pinch him sound     60
And burn him with their tapers.   
  Mrs. Page.        The truth being known,   
We’ll all present ourselves, dis-horn the spirit,   
And mock him home to Windsor.     64
  Ford.        The children must   
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-an-apes also, to burn the knight with my taber.   
  Ford.  That will be excellent. I’ll go buy them vizards.     68
  Mrs. Page.  My Nan shall be the queen of all the fairies,   
Finely attired in a robe of white.   
  Page.  That silk will I go buy:—[Aside] and in that time   
Shall Master Slender steal my Nan away,     72
And marry her at Eton. Go, send to Falstaff straight.   
  Ford.  Nay, I’ll to him again in name of Brook;   
He’ll tell me all his purpose. Sure, he’ll come.   
  Mrs. Page.  Fear not you that. Go, get us properties,     76
And tricking for our fairies.   
  Eva.  Let us about it: it is admirable pleasures and fery honest knaveries.  [Exeunt PAGE, FORD, and EVANS.   
  Mrs. Page.  Go, Mistress Ford,   
Send Quickly to Sir John, to know his mind.  [Exit MISTRESS FORD.     80
I’ll to the doctor: he hath my good will,   
And none but he, to marry with Nan Page.   
That Slender, though well landed, is an idiot;   
And him my husband best of all affects:     84
The doctor is well money’d, and his friends   
Potent at court: he, none but he, shall have her,   
Though twenty thousand worthier come to crave her.  [Exit.

Act IV. Scene V.


A Room in the Garter Inn.
   
 
Enter Host and SIMPLE.
   
  Host.  What wouldst thou have, boor? what, thick-skin? speak, breathe, discuss; brief, short, quick, snap.   
  Sim.  Marry, sir, I come to speak with Sir John Falstaff from Master Slender.      4
  Host.  There’s his chamber, his house, 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 say.   
  Sim.  There’s an old woman, a fat woman, gone up into his chamber: I’ll be so bold as stay, sir, till she come down; I come to speak with her, indeed.   
  Host.  Ha! a fat woman! the knight may be robbed: I’ll call. Bully knight! Bully Sir John! speak from thy lungs military: art thou there? it is thine host, thine Ephesian, calls.   
  Fal.  [Above.] How now, mine host!      8
  Host.  Here’s a Bohemian-Tartar tarries the coming down of thy fat woman. Let her descend, bully; let her descend; my chambers are honourable: fie! privacy? fie!   
 
Enter FALSTAFF.
   
  Fal.  There was, mine host, an old fat woman even now with me, but she’s gone.   
  Sim.  Pray you, sir, was’t not the wise woman of Brainford?     12
  Fal.  Ay, marry, was it, muscle-shell: what would you with her?   
  Sim.  My Master, sir, Master Slender, sent to her, seeing her go thorough the streets, to know, sir, whether one Nym, sir, that beguiled him of a chain, had the chain or no.   
  Fal.  I spake with the old woman about it.   
  Sim.  And what says she, I pray, sir?     16
  Fal.  Marry, she says that the very same man that beguiled Master Slender of his chain cozened him of it.   
  Sim.  I would I could have spoken with the woman herself: I had other things to have spoken with her too, from him.   
  Fal.  What are they? let us know.   
  Host.  Ay, come; quick.     20
  Sim.  I may not conceal them, sir.   
  Host.  Conceal them, or thou diest.   
  Sim.  Why, sir, they were nothing but about Mistress Anne Page; to know if it were my master’s fortune to have her or no.   
  Fal.  ’Tis, ’tis his fortune.     24
  Sim.  What, sir?   
  Fal.  To have her, or no. Go; say the woman told me so.   
  Sim.  May I be bold to say so, sir?   
  Fal.  Ay, Sir Tike; who more bold?     28
  Sim.  I thank your worship: I shall make my master glad with these tidings.  [Exit.   
  Host.  Thou art clerkly, thou art clerkly, Sir John. Was there a wise woman with thee?   
  Fal.  Ay, that there was, mine host; one that hath taught me more wit than ever I learned before in my life: and I paid nothing for it neither, but was paid for my learning.   
 
Enter BARDOLPH.
     32
  Bard.  Out, alas, sir! cozenage, mere cozenage!   
  Host.  Where be my horses? speak well of them, varletto.   
  Bard.  Run away, with the cozeners; for so soon as I came beyond Eton, they threw me off, from behind one of them, in a slough of mire; and set spurs and away, like three German devils, three Doctor Faustuses.   
  Host.  They are gone but to meet the duke, villain. Do not say they be fled: Germans are honest men.     36
 
Enter SIR HUGH EVANS.
   
  Eva.  Where is mine host?   
  Host.  What is the matter, sir?   
  Eva.  Have a care of your entertainments: there is a friend of mine come to town, tells me, there is three cozen-germans that has cozened all the hosts of Readins, of Maidenhead, of Colebrook, of horses and money. I tell you for good will, look you: you are wise and full of gibes and vlouting-stogs, and ’tis not convenient you should be cozened. Fare you well.  [Exit.     40
 
Enter DOCTOR CAIUS.
   
  Caius.  Vere is mine host de Jarteer?   
  Host.  Here, Master doctor, in perplexity and doubtful dilemma.   
  Caius.  I cannot tell vat is dat; but it is tell-a me dat you make grand preparation for a duke de Jamany: by my trot, dere is no duke dat de court is know to come. I tell you for good vill: adieu.  [Exit.     44
  Host.  Hue and cry, villain! go. Assist me, knight; I am undone. Fly, run, hue and cry, villain! I am undone!  [Exeunt Host and BARDOLPH.   
  Fal.  I would all the world might be cozened, for I have been cozened and beaten too. If it should come to the ear of the court how I have been transformed, and how my transformation hath been washed and cudgelled, they would melt me out of my fat drop by drop, and liquor fishermen’s boots with me: I warrant they would whip me with their fine wits till I were as crest-fallen as a dried pear. I never prospered since I forswore myself at primero. Well, if my wind were but long enough to say my prayers, I would repent.   
 
Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY.
   
Now, whence come you?     48
  Quick.  From the two parties, forsooth.   
  Fal.  The devil take one party and his dam the other! and so they shall be both bestowed. I have suffered more for their sakes, more than the villanous inconstancy of man’s disposition is able to bear.   
  Quick.  And have not they suffered? Yes, I warrant; speciously one of them: Mistress Ford, good heart, is beaten black and blue, that you cannot see a white spot about her.   
  Fal.  What tellest thou me of black and blue? I was beaten myself into all the colours of the rainbow; and I was like to be apprehended for the witch of Brainford: but that my admirable dexterity of wit, my counterfeiting the action of an old woman, delivered me, the knave constable had set me i’ the stocks, i’ the common stocks, for a witch.     52
  Quick.  Sir, let me speak with you in your chamber; you shall hear how things go, and, I warrant, to your content. Here is a letter will say somewhat. Good hearts! what ado here is to bring you together! Sure, one of you does not serve heaven well, that you are so crossed.   
  Fal.  Come up into my chamber.  [Exeunt.

Act IV. Scene VI.


Another Room in the Garter Inn.
   
 
Enter FENTON and Host.
   
  Host.  Master Fenton, talk not to me: my mind is heavy; I will give over all.   
  Fent.  Yet hear me speak. Assist me in my purpose,      4
And, as I am a gentleman, I’ll give thee   
A hundred pound in gold more than your loss.   
  Host.  I will hear you, Master Fenton; and I will, at the least, keep your counsel.   
  Fent.  From time to time I have acquainted you      8
With the dear love I bear to fair Anne Page;   
Who, mutually hath answer’d my affection,   
So far forth as herself might be her chooser,   
Even to my wish. I have a letter from her     12
Of such contents as you will wonder at;   
The mirth whereof so larded with my matter,   
That neither singly can be manifested,   
Without the show of both; wherein fat Falstaff     16
Hath a great scare: the image of the jest   
I’ll show you here at large [Pointing to the Letter]. Hark, good mine host:   
To-night at Herne’s oak, just ’twixt twelve and one,   
Must my sweet Nan present the Fairy Queen;     20
The purpose why, is here: in which disguise,   
While other jests are something rank on foot,   
Her father hath commanded her to slip   
Away with Slender, and with him at Eton     24
Immediately to marry: she hath consented:   
Now, sir,   
Her mother, even strong against that match   
And firm for Doctor Caius, hath appointed     28
That he shall likewise shuffle her away,   
While other sports are tasking of their minds;   
And at the deanery, where a priest attends,   
Straight marry her: to this her mother’s plot     32
She, seemingly obedient, likewise hath   
Made promise to the doctor. Now, thus it rests:   
Her father means she shall be all in white,   
And in that habit, when Slender sees his time     36
To take her by the hand and bid her go,   
She shall go with him: her mother hath intended,   
The better to denote her to the doctor,—   
For they must all be mask’d and vizarded—     40
That quaint in green she shall be loose enrob’d,   
With ribands pendent, flaring ’bout her head;   
And when the doctor spies his vantage ripe,   
To pinch her by the hand; and on that token     44
The maid hath given consent to go with him.   
  Host.  Which means she to deceive, father or mother?   
  Fent.  Both, my good host, to go along with me:   
And here it rests, that you’ll procure the vicar     48
To stay for me at church ’twixt twelve and one,   
And, in the lawful name of marrying,   
To give our hearts united ceremony.   
  Host.  Well, husband your device; I’ll to the vicar.     52
Bring you the maid, you shall not lack a priest.   
  Fent.  So shall I evermore be bound to thee;   
Besides, I’ll make a present recompense.  [Exeunt.

Act V. Scene I.


A Room in the Garter Inn.
   
 
Enter FALSTAFF and MISTRESS QUICKLY.
   
  Fal.  Prithee, no more prattling; go: I’ll hold. This is the third time; I hope good luck lies in odd numbers. Away! go. They say there is divinity in odd numbers, either in nativity, chance or death. Away!   
  Quick.  I’ll provide you a chain, and I’ll do what I can to get you a pair of horns.      4
  Fal.  Away, I say; time wears: hold up your head, and mince.  [Exit MISTRESS QUICKLY.   
 
Enter FORD.
   
How now, Master Brook! Master Brook, the matter will be known to-night, or never. Be you in the Park about midnight, at Herne’s oak, and you shall see wonders.   
  Ford.  Went you not to her yesterday, sir, as you told me you had appointed?      8
  Fal.  I went to her, Master Brook, as you see, like a poor old man; but I came from her, Master Brook, like a poor old woman. That same knave Ford, her husband, hath the finest mad devil of jealousy in him, Master Brook, that ever governed frenzy. I will tell you: he beat me grievously, in the shape of a woman; for in the shape of a man, Master Brook, I fear not Goliath with a weaver’s beam, because I know also life is a shuttle. I am in haste: go along with me; I’ll tell you all, Master Brook. Since I plucked geese, played truant, and whipped top, I knew not what it was to be beaten till lately. Follow me: I’ll tell you strange things of this knave Ford, on whom to-night I will be revenged, and I will deliver his wife into your hand. Follow. Strange things in hand, Master Brook! Follow.  [Exeunt.