Sivut kuvina
PDF
ePub
[merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

SCENE III-A Room in the Garter Inn. Enter FALSTAFF, HOST, BARDOLPH, NYM, PISTOL, and ROBIN.

Fal. Mine host of the Garter,

Host. What says my bully-rook? Speak scholarly, and wisely.

Fal. Truly, mine host, I must turn away some of my followers.

Host. Discard, bully Hercules; cashier: let them wag; trot, trot.

Fal. I sit at ten pounds a week. Host. Thou'rt an emperor, Cæsar, Keisar, and Pheezar, I will entertain Bardolph; he shall draw, he shall tap: said I well, bully

Hector?

[blocks in formation]

adieu.

Bard. It is a life that I have desired; I will thrive. [Exit BARD. Pist. O base Gongarian* wight! wilt thou the spigot wield?

Nym. He was gotten in drink: Is not the humour conceited? His mind is not heroic, and there's the humour of it.

Fal. I am glad, I am so acquit of this tinderbox; his thefts were too open: his filching was like an unskilful singer, he kept not time.

Nym. The good humour is, to steal at a mi

nute's rest.

Pist. Convey, the wise it call: Steal! foh; a ficot for the phrase!

Fal. Well, Sirs, I am almost out at heels.
Pist. Why then let kibes ensue.

Fal. There is no remedy; I must coney-catch;
I must shift.

Pist. Young ravens must have food.

Fal. Which of you know Ford of this town?
Pist. I ken the wight; he is of substance good.
Fal. My honest lads, I will tell you what I

am about.

Pist. Two yards, and more.

Fal. Now, the report goes, she has all the rule of her husband's purse; she hath legions of angels.*

Pist. As many devils entertain; and, To her, boy, say I.

Nym. The humour rises; it is good: humour me the angels.

Fal. I have writ me here a letter to her: and here another to Page's wife; who even now gave me good eyes too, examin'd my parts with most judicious eyliads: sometimes the beam of her view gilded my foot, sometimes my portly belly.

Pist. Then did the sun on dung-hill shine.
Nym. I thank thee for that humour.

Fal. O, she did so course o'er my exteriors with such a greedy intention, that the appetite of her eye did seem to scorch me up like a burning glass! Here's another letter to her: she bears the purse too; she is a region in Guiana, all gold and bounty. I will be cheater+ to them both, and they shall be exchequers to me; they shall be my East and West Indies, and I will trade to them both. Go, bear thou this letter to mistress Page; and thou this to mistress Ford: we will thrive, lads, we will thrive.

Pist. Shall I Sir Pandarus of Troy become, And by my side wear steel? then, Lucifer take all!

Nym. I will run no base humour; here, take the humour letter; I will keep the 'haviour of reputation.

Fal. Hold, sirrah, [to Roв.] bear you these letters tightly;

go;

Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores.-
Rogues, hence avaunt! vanish like hail-stones,
Trudge, plod, away, o' the hoof; seek shelter,
[pack!
Falstaff will learn the humour of this age,
French thrift, you rogues; myself, and skirted

page. [Exeunt FALSTAFF and ROBIN. Pist. Let vultures gripe thy guts! for gourd and fullam holds,

And high and low beguile the rich and poor:
Tester I'll have in pouch, when thou shalt lack,
Base Phrygian Turk!

Nym. I have operations in my head, which be humours of revenge.

Pist. Wilt thou revenge?
Nym. By welkin, and her star!
Pist. With wit, or steel?

Nym. With both the humours, I:

I will discuss the humour of this love to Page.
Pist. And I to Ford shall eke unfold,

How Falstaff, varlet vile,

His dove will prove, his gold will hold,
And his soft couch defile.

cense¶ Page to deal with poison; I will possess
Nym. My humour shall not cool: I will in-
him with yellowness,** for the revolt of mien
is dangerous: that is my true humour.

Pist. Thou art the Mars of malcontents: I second thee; troop on. [Exeunt.

Fal. No quips now, Pistol; indeed I am in the waist two yards about: but I am now about no waste; I am about thrift. Briefly, I do mean to make love to Ford's wife; I spy entertainment in her; she discourses, she carves, she gives the leer of invitation: I can construe the action of her familiar style; and the hardest voice of her behaviour, to be Eng-master, lish'd rightly, is, I am Sir John Falstaff's.

Pist. He hath studied her well, and translated her well; out of honesty into English. Nym. The anchor is deep: will that humour pass?

[blocks in formation]

SCENE IV.-A Room in Dr. CAIUS' House. Enter Mrs. QUICKLY, SIMPLE, and RUGBY. Quick. What; John Rugby!-I pray thee, go to the casement, and see if you can see my master Doctor Caius, coming: if he do, i'faith, and find any body in the house, here will be an old abusing of God's patience, and the king's English.

* Gold coin. † Escheatour, an officer in the Exchequer.
↑ Cleverly.
False dice.
Sixpence I'll have in pocket.
Instigate.
** Jealousy.

[Exit RUGBY. | closet? dere is no honest man dat shall come in my closet.

Rug. I'll go watch. Quick. Go; and we'll have a posset for't soon at night, in faith, at the latter end of a sea-coal fire. An honest, willing, kind fellow, as ever servant shall come in house withal; and, I warrant you, no tell-tale, nor no breed-bate:* his worst fault is, that he is given to prayer; he is something peevisht that way: but nobody but has his fault;-but let that pass. Peter Simple, you say your name is?

Sim. Ay, for fault of a better.

Quick. And master Slender's your master?
Sim. Ay, forsooth.

Quick. Does he not wear a great round beard, like a glover's paring knife?

Sim. No, forsooth: he hath but a little wee face, with a little yellow beard; a Cain-coloured beard.

Quick. A softly-sprighted man, is he not? Sim. Ay, forsooth: but he is as tall a man of his hands, as any is between this and his head; he hath fought with a warrener.§

Quick. I beseech you, be not so flegmatic; hear the truth of it: He came of an errand to me from parson Hugh.

Caius. Vell.

Sim. Ay, forsooth, to desire her to→→→
Quick. Peace, I pray you.

Caius. Peace-a your tongue :-Speak-a your tale.

Sim. To desire this honest gentlewoman, your maid, to speak a good word to mistress Anne Page for my master, in the way of marriage.

Quick. This is all, indeed, la; but I'll ne'er put my finger in the fire, and need not. Caius. Sir Hugh send-a you?-Rugby, baillez me some paper:-Tarry you a little-a while. [Writes.

Quick. I am glad he is so quiet: if he had been thoroughly moved, you should have heard him so loud, and so melancholy;-But notwithstanding, man, I'll do your master what Quick. How say you?-O, I should remem-good I can: and the very yea and the no is, the ber him? Does he not hold up his head, as it French Doctor, my master,-I may call him were? and strut in his gait?

Sim. Yes, indeed, does he.

Quick. Well, heaven send Anne Page no worse fortune! Tell master parson Evans, 1 will do what I can for your master: Anne is a good girl, and I wish

Re-enter RUGBY.

Rug. Out, alas! here comes my master. Quick. We shall all be shent :|| Run in here, good young man; go into this closet. [Shuts SIMPLE in the closet.] He will not stay long. What, John Rugby! John, what, John, I say! -Go, John, go inquire for my master; I doubt, he be not well, that he comes not home :-and down, down, adown-a, &c. [Sings.

Enter Doctor CAIUS.

Caius. Vat is you sing? I do not like dese toys; Pray you, go and vetch me in my closet un boitier verd; a box, a green-a box; Do intend vat I speak? a green-a box.

Quick. Ay, forsooth, I'll fetch it you. I am
glad he went not in himself; if he had found
the young man, he would have been horn-mad.
[Aside.
Caius. Fe, fe fe, fe! ma foi, il fait fort chaud.
Je m'en vais à la Cour, la grand affaire.
Quick. Is it this, Sir?

Caius. Ouy; mette le au mon pocket; Depeche,
quickly:-Vere is dat knave, Rugby?
Quick. What, John Rugby! John!
Rug. Here, Sir.

Caius. You are John Rugby, and you are Jack Rugby: Come, take-a your rapier, and come after my heel to de court.

Rug. "Tis ready, Sir, here in the porch. Caius. By my trot, I tarry too long:-Od's me! Qu'ay j'oublié ? dere is some simples in my closet, dat I vill not for the varld I shall leave behind.

Quick. Ah me! he'll find the young man there, and be mad.

Caius. O diable, diable! vat is in my closet?Villany? larron! [Pulling SIMPLE out.] Rugby, my rapier.

Quick. Good master, be content.

Caius. Verefore shall I be content-a?
Quick. The young man is an honest man.

Caius. Vat shall de honest man do in my

[blocks in formation]

my master, look you, for I keep his house; and I wash, wring, brew, bake, scour, dress meat and drink, make the beds, and do all myself;Sim. 'Tis a great charge, to come under one body's hand.

Quick. Are you avis'd o' that? you shall find it a great charge: and to be up early, and down late; but notwithstanding, (to tell you in your ear; I would have no words of it;) my master himself is in love with mistress Anne Page: but notwithstanding that, I know Anne's mind,-that's neither here nor there.

Caius. You jack'nape; give-a dis letter to
Sir Hugh; by gar, it is a shallenge: I vill cut
his troat in de park; and I vill teach a scurvy
jack-a-nape priest to meddle or make :-you
may be gone; it is not good you tarry here :-
by gar,
cut all
stones; gar, he

shall not have a stone to trow at his dog.
[Exit SIMPLE.

Quick. Alas, he speaks but for his friend. Caius. It is no matter-a for dat :-do not you tell-a me dat I shall have Anne Page for myself?-by gar, I vill kill de Jack priest; and I have appointed mine host of de Jarterre to measure our weapon:-by gar, I vill myself have Anne Page.

Quick. Sir, the maid loves you, and all shall be well we must give folks leave to prate: What, the good-jer!*

Caius. Rugby, come to the court vit me ;By gar, if I have not Anne Page, I shall turn your head out of my door:-Follow my heels, [Exeunt CAIUS and RUGBY. Rugby. Quick. You shall have An fools-head of your own. No, I know Anne's mind for that: never a woman in Windsor knows more of Anne's mind than I do; nor can do more than I do with her, I thank heaven.

Fent. [Within.] Who's within there, ho? Quick. Who's there, I trow? Come near the house, I pray you.

Enter FENTON.

Fent. How now, good woman; how dost thou?

Quick. The better, that it pleases your good worship to ask.

Fent. What news? how does pretty mistress Anne?

The goujere, what the pox!

Quick. In truth, Sir, and she is pretty, and honest, and gentle; and one that is your friend, I can tell you that by the way; I praise heaven for it.

Fent. Shall I do any good, thinkest thou? Shall I not lose my suit?

Quick. Troth, Sir, all is in his hands above: but notwithstanding, master Fenton, I'll be sworn on a book, she loves you :-Have not your worship a wart above your eye?

Fent. Yes, marry, have I; what of that? Quick. Well, thereby hangs a tail-good faith, it is such another Nan :-but, I detest, an honest maid as ever broke bread:-We had an hour's talk of that wart;-I shall never laugh but in that maid's company?-But, indeed, she is given too much to allichollyt and musing: But for you-Well, go to.

Fent. Well, I shall see her to-day: Hold, there's money for thee; let me have thy voice in my behalf: if thou seest her before me, commend me

Quick. Will I? i'faith, that we will: and 1 will tell your worship more of the wart, the next time we have confidence; and of other

[blocks in formation]

SCENE 1.-Before PAGE's House. Enter Mistress PAGE, with a letter. Mrs. Puge. What! have I 'scaped love-letters in the holy-day time of my beauty, and am I now a subject for them? Let me see: [Reads. Ask me no reason why I love you; for though love use reason for his precisian, he admits him not for his counsellor: You are not young, no more am I; go to then, there's sympathy: you are merry, so am I; Ha! ha! then there's more sympathy: you love sack, and so do I; Would you desire better sympathy? Let it suffice thee, mistress Page, (at the least, if the love of a soldier can suffice,) that I love thee. I will not say, pity me, 'tis not a soldier-like phrase; but I say, love me. By me,

Thine own true knight,
By day or night,
Or any kind of light,
With all his might,
For thee to fight,

John Falstaff.

What a Herod of Jewry is this?-O wicked, wicked, world!-one that is well nigh worn to pieces with age, to show himself a young gallant! What an unweighed behaviour hath this Flemish drunkard picked (with the devil's name) out of my conversation, that he dares in this manner assay me? Why, he hath not been thrice in my company!-What should I say to him?--I was then frugal of my mirth :-heaven forgive me!-Why, I'll exhibit a bill in the parliament for the putting down of men. How shall I be revenged on him? for revenged I will be, as sure as his guts are made of puddings. Enter Mistress FORD.

Mrs. Page. And, trust me, I was coming to you. You look very ill.

Mrs. Ford. Nay, I'll ne'er believe that; I have to show to the contrary.

Mrs. Page. 'Faith, but you do, in my mind. Mrs. Ford. Well, I do then; yet, I say, I could show you to the contrary: O, mistress Page, give me some counsel!

Mrs. Puge. What's the matter, woman?

Mrs. Ford. O woman, if it were not for one trifling respect, I could come to such honour! Mrs. Page. Hang the trifle, woman; take the honour: What is it?-dispense with trifles ;what is it?

Mrs. Ford. If I would but go to hell for an eternal moment, or so, I could be knighted.

Mrs. Page. What?-thou liest!-Sir Alice Ford! These knights will hack; and so thou shouldst not alter the article of thy gentry.

Mrs. Ford. We burn day-light-here, read, read ;-perceive how I might be knighted.—I shall think the worse of fat men, as long as I have an eye to make difference of men's liking: And yet he would not swear; praised women's modesty and gave such orderly and wellbehaved reproof to all uncomeliness, that I would have sworn his disposition would have gone to the truth of his words: but they do no more adhere and keep place together, than the hundredth Psalm to the tune of Green sleeves. What tempest, I trow, threw this whale, with so many tuns of oil in his belly, ashore at Windsor? How shall I be revenged on him? I think, the best way were to entertain him with hope, till the wicked fire of lust have melted him in his own grease.-Did you ever hear the like?

Mrs. Page. Letter for letter; but that the name of Page and Ford differs!-To thy great comfort in this mystery of ill opinions, here's the twin-brother of thy letter: but let thine inherit first; for, I protest, mine never shall. I warrant, he hath a thousand of these letters, writ with blank space for different names, (sure more,) and these are of the second edition: He will print them out of doubt: for he cares not what he puts into the press, when he would put us two. I had rather be a giantess, and lie under mount Pelion. Well, I will find you twenty lascivious turtles, ere one chaste

[blocks in formation]

Mrs. Ford. Boarding, call you it? I'll be sure to keep him above deck.

Mrs. Page. So will I; if he come under my hatches, I'll never to sea again. Let's be revenged on him: let's appoint him a meeting; give him a show of comfort in his suit; and lead him on with a fine baited delay, till he hath pawn'd his horses to mine Host of the Garter.

Mrs. Ford. Nay, I will consent to act any Mrs. Ford. Mistress Page! trust me, I was villany against him, that may not sully the chariness of our honesty. O, that my husgoing to your house.

She means, I protest.

+ Melancholy.

Most probably Shakspeare wrote physician.

* Caution.

band saw this letter! it would give eternal | food to his jealousy.

Mrs. Page. Why, look, where he comes; and my good man too: he's as far from jealousy, as I am from giving him cause; and that, I hope, is an unmeasurable distance.

Mrs. Ford. You are the happier woman. Mrs. Page. Let's consult together against this greasy knight: Come hither. [They retire.

Enter FORD, PISTOL, PAGE, and NYM.
Ford. Well, I hope, it be not so.
Pist. Hope is a curtail* dog in some affairs:
Sir John affects thy wife.

Ford. Why, Sir, my wife is not young.
Pist. He wooes both high and low, both rich

and poor,

Both young and old, one with another, Ford;
He loves thy gally-mawfry; Ford, perpend.
Ford. Love my wife?

Pist. With liver burning hot : Prevent, or go
thou,

Like Sir Actæon he, with Ringwood at thy
O, odious is the name!

Ford. What name, Sir?

Pist. The horn, I say: Farewell.

[heels:

Mrs. Page. Go in with us, and see; we have an hour's talk with you.

[Exeunt Mrs. PAGE, Mrs. FORD, and Mrs. QUICKLY.

Page. How now,

master Ford? Ford. You heard what this knave told me ; did you not?

Page. Yes; and you heard what the other told me?

Ford. Do you think there is truth in them? Page. Hang 'em, slaves! I do not think the knight would offer it: but these that accuse him in his intent towards our wives, are a yoke of his discarded men; very rogues, now they be out of service.

Ford. Were they his men?
Page. Marry, were they.
Ford. I like it never the better for that.-
Does he lie at the Garter.

Page. Ay, marry, does he. If he should intend this voyage towards my wife, I would turn her loose to him; and what he gets more of her than sharp words, let it lie on my head,

Ford. I do not misdoubt my wife; but I would be loath to turn them together: A man may be too confident: I would have nothing

Take heed, ere summer comes, or cuckoo- lie on my head: I cannot be thus satisfied.

birds do sing.

Away, Sir corporal Nym.

Believe it, Page; he speaks sense.

[Exit PISTOL. Ford. I will be patient; I will find out this. Nym. And this is true. [To PAGE.] I like not the humour of lying. He hath wronged me in some humours; I should have borne the humoured letter to her: but I have a sword, and it shall bite upon my necessity. He loves your wife; there's the short and the long. My name is corporal Nym; I speak, and I avouch. Tis true:-my name is Nym, and Falstaff loves your wife.-Adieu! I love not the humour of bread and cheese; and there's the humour of it. Adieu. [Exit NYM. Page. The humour of it, quoth 'a! here's a fellow frights humour out of its wits. Ford. I will seek out Falstaff. Page. I never heard such a drawling, affecting rogue.

Ford. If I do find it, well.

Page. I will not believe such a Cataian, tho' the priest o' the town commended him for

a true man.

Ford. Twas a good sensible fellow: Well.
Page. How now, Meg?

Mrs. Page. Whither go you, George ?-Hark

you.

Mrs. Ford. How now, sweet Frank? why art thou melancholy?

Page. Look, where my ranting host of the Garter comes: there is either liquor in his pate, or money in his purse, when he looks so merrily.-How now, mine host?

Enter Host and SHALLOW. Host. How now, bully-rook? thou'rt a gentleman: cavalero-justice, I say. Shal. I follow, mine host, I follow.-Good even, and twenty, good master Page! Master Page, will you go with us? we have sport in hand.

Host. Tell him, cavalero-justice; tell him bully-rook.

Shal. Sir, there is a fray to be fought, between Sir Hugh the Welsh priest, and Caius the French doctor.

Ford. Good mine host o' the Garter, a word with you.

Host. What say'st thou, bully-rook? [They go aside. hold it? my merry host hath had the measuring Shal. Will you [to PAGE] go with us to beof their weapons; and, I think, he hath ap pointed them contrary places: for, believe me, I hear the parson is no jester. Hark, I will tell you what our sport shall be.

Host. Hast thou no suit against my knight, my guest-cavalier?

Ford. None, I protest: but I'll give you a pottle of burnt sack to give me recourse to him, tell him, my name is Brook; only for a

Ford. I melancholy! I am not melancholy.—and Get you home, go.

Mrs. Ford. 'Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy head now.-Will you go, mistress Page? Mrs. Page. Have with you.-You'll come to dinner, George!-Look, who comes yonder: she shall be our messenger to this paltry knight. [Aside to Mrs. FORD.

Enter Mistress QUICKLY. Mrs. Ford. Trust me, I thought on her: she'll fit it.

Mrs. Page. You are come to see my daughter Anne?

Quick. Ay, forsooth; And, I pray, how does good mistress Anne?

A dog that misses his game. * Consider.

+ A medley.
A lying sharper.

jest.

Host. My hand, bully: thou shalt have egress and regress; said I well? and thy name shall be Brook: It is a merry knight.--Will you go on, hearts?

Shal. Have with you, mine host.

Page. I have heard, the Frenchman hath good skill in his rapier.

Shal. Tut, Sir, I could have told you more: In these times you stand on distance, your passes, stoccadoes, and I know not what: 'tis the heart, master Page; 'tis here, 'tis here. I have seen the time, with my long sword, I would have made you four tall* fellows skip like rats.

* Stout, bold.

Host. Here, boys, here, here! shall we wag? Page. Have with you:-I had rather hear them scold than fight.

[Exeunt HosT, SHALLOW, and PAGE. Ford. Though Page be a secure fool, and stands so firmly on his wife's frailty, yet I cannot put off my opinion so easily: She was in his company at Page's house; and, what they made there, I know not. Well, I will look further into't: and I have a disguise to sound Falstaff: If I find her honest, I lose not my labour; if she be otherwise, 'tis labour well bestowed. [Exit.

SCENE II-A Room in the Garter Inn.

Enter FALSTAFF and PISTOL.

Fal. I will not lend thee a penny.
Pist. Why, then the world's mine oyster,
Which I with sword will open.-
I will retort the sum in equipage.t

Fal. Not a penny. I have been content, Sir, you should lay my countenance to pawn: have grated upon my good friends for three reprieves for you and your coach-fellow; Nym; or else you had looked through the grate like a geminy of baboons. I am damned in hell, for swearing to gentlemen my friends, you were good soldiers, and tall fellows: and when mistress Bridget lost the handle of her fan, I took't upon mine honour, thou hadst it not. Pist. Didst thou not share? hadst thou not fifteen pence?

Fal. Reason, you rogue, reason: Think'st thou, I'll endanger my soul gratis? At a word, hang no more about me, am no gibbet for you-go.-A short knife and a throng;-to your manor of Pickt-hatch,|| go.-You'll not bear a letter for me, you rogue!-you stand upon your honour!-Why, thou unconfinable baseness, it is as much as I can do, to keep the terms of my honour precise. I, I, I myself sometimes, leaving the fear of heaven on the left hand, and hiding mine honour in my necessity, am fain to shuffle, to hedge, and to lurch; and yet you, rogue, will ensconce¶ your rags, your cat-a-mountain looks, your red-lattice phrases, and your bold-beating oaths, under the shelter of your honour! You will not do it, you?

Pist. I do relent; What would'st thou more of man?

Enter ROBIN.

[ACT II.

Fal. Well, on: Mistress Ford, you say,-
Quick. Your worship says very true: I pray
your worship, come a little nearer this ways.
own people, mine own people.
Fal. I warrant thee, nobody hears ;-mine

make them his servants!
Quick. Are they so? Heaven bless them, and

Fal. Well: mistress Ford :—what of her?
Lord, lord! your worship's a wanton: Well,
Quick. Why, Sir, she's a good creature.
heaven forgive you, and all of us, I pray!

Fal. Mistress Ford;-come, mistress Ford,Quick. Marry, this is the short and the long of it; you have brought her into such a canaries, as 'tis wonderful. The best courtier of them all, when the court lay at Windsor, could never have brought her to such a canary. Yet there has been knights, and lords, and gentlemen, with their coaches; I warrant you, coach after coach, letter after letter, gift after gift; smelling so sweetly, (all musk,) and so rushsuch alligant terms; and in such wine and ling, I warrant you, in silk and gold; and in sugar of the best, and the fairest, that would have won any woman's heart; and, I warrant you, they could never get an eye-wink of her. I had myself twenty angels given me this morning: but I defy all angels, (in any such sort, as they say,) but in the way of honesty :so much as sip on a cup with the proudest of and, I warrant you, they could never get her them all and yet there has been earls, nay, which is more, pensioners; but, I warrant you, all is one with her.

:

Fal. But what says she to me? be brief, my good she Mercury,

Quick. Marry, she hath received your letter; for the which she thanks you a thousand times and she gives you to notify, that her husband will be absence from his house be

tween ten and eleven.

Fal. Ten and eleven?

and see the picture, she says, that you wott of;-master Ford, her husband, will be from Quick. Ay, forsooth; and then you may come home. Alas! the sweet woman leads an ill life with him; he's a very jealousy man; she leads a very frampoldt life with him, good

heart.

Fal. Ten and eleven: Woman, commend me to her; I will not fail her.

Quick. Why, you say well: But I have another messenger to your worship: Mistress

Rob. Sir, here's a woman would speak with Page hath her hearty commendations to you

you.

Fal. Let her approach.

Enter Mistress QUICKLY.

Quick. Give your worship good-morrow.
Fal. Good-morrow, good wife.

Quick. Not so, an't please your worship.
Fal. Good maid, then.

Quick. I'll be sworn; as my mother was, the first hour I was born.

Fal. I do believe the swearer: What with

me?

Quick. Shall I vouchsafe your worship a word or two?

Fal. Two thousand, fair woman; and I'll Touchsafe thee the hearing.

Quick. There is one mistress Ford, Sir;-1 pray, come a little nearer this ways:-I myself dwell with master doctor Caius.

[blocks in formation]

too;-and let me tell you in your ear, she's as
fartuous a civil modest wife, and one (I tell
you) that will not miss your morning nor even-
ing prayer, as any is in Windsor, whoe'er be
the other: and she bade me tell your worship,
that her husband is seldom from home; but,
she hopes, there will come a time. I never
think you have charms, la; yes, in truth.
knew a woman so dote upon a man; surely, I

tion of my good parts aside, I have no other
Fal. Not 1, I assure thee; setting the attrac-

charms.

Quick. Blessing on your heart for't!

wife, and Page's wife, acquainted each other Fal. But, I pray thee, tell me this: has Ford's how they love me?

not so little grace, I hope:-that were a trick, Quick. That were a jest, indeed!—they have indeed! But mistress Page would desire you to send her your little page of all loves ; her husband has a marvellous infection to the little *A mistake of Mrs. Quickly's for quandaries. Fretful, peevish. By all means.

+ Know.

« EdellinenJatka »