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box, a green-a box; do intend vat I speak? a green-a

box.

Quic. Ay, forfooth, I'll fetch it you.

I am glad, he went not in himself; if he had found the man, he would have been horn-mad.

[Afide. Caius. Fe, fe, fe, fe, ma foi, il fait fort chaud, je me'n vaie à la Courla grande affaire.

Quic. Is it this, Sir?

Caius. Ouy, mettez le au mon pocket; Depechez, quickly; ver is dat knave Rugby?

Quic. 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 the Court.

Rug. 'Tis ready, Sir, here in the porch.

Caius. By my trot, I tarry too long: od's me: Que ay je oublié ? dere is fome fimples in my closet, dat I will not for the varld I fhall leave behind.

Quic. Ay-me, he'll find the young man there, and be mad.

Caius. O Diable, Diable! vat is in my clofet? villaine, Larron! Rugby, my rapier. [Pulls Simple out of the clofet. Quic. Good master, be content.

Caius. Wherefore fhall I be content-a?

Quic. The young man is an honest man.

Caius. What thall de honeft man do in my closet? dere is no honeft man, dat fhall come in my closet. Quic. I beseech you, be not fo flegmatick; hear the truth of it. He came of an errand to me from parson Hugh.

Caius. Vell.

Sim. Ay, forfooth, to defire her to

Quic. Peace, I pray you.

Caius. Peace-a your tongue, fpeak-a your tale. Sim. To defire this honelt gentlewoman, your maid, to fpeak a good word to mistress Anne Page for my mafter in the way of marriage.

Quic. This is all, indeed-la; but I'll ne'er put my finger in the fire, and need not.

Caius. Sir Hugh fend-a-you? Rugby, (10) batllez me fome paper; tarry you a little-a-while.

Quic. I am glad, he is fo quiet; if he had been thoroughly moved, you fhould have heard him fo loud, and fo melancholy but notwithstanding, man, I'll do for your mafter what good I can; and the very yea and the no is, the French Doctor my mafter, (I may call him my mafter, look you, for I keep his houfe, and I wash, wring, brew, bake, fcour, drefs meat and drink, make the beds, and do all my felf.) Simp. 'Tis a great charge to come under one body's hand.

Quic. Are you a-vis'd o' that? you fhall 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 mafter himfelf is in love with miftrefs Anne Page; but, notwithstanding that, I know Anne's mind, that's neither here nor there.

Caius. You jack'nape; give a this letter to Sir Hugh; by gar, it is a fhallenge: I will cut his troat in de parke, and I will teach a fcurvy jack-a-nape priest to meddle or make you may be gone; it is not good you tarry here; by gar, I will cut all his two Itones; by gar he fhall not have a stone to trow at his dog. [Exit Simple. Quic. Alas, he speaks but for his friend. Caius. It is no matter'a ver dat: do you not tell-ame, dat I shall have Anne Page for my felf? by gar, I vill kill de jack priest; and I have appointed mine hoft of de Jarterre to measure our weapon; by gar, I will my felf have Anne Page.

(10) Ballow me fome Paper;] Thus all the Editions hitherto: and, Í fuppofe, the Editors thought this a defign'd Corruption of the Word borrow. But are we to imagine the Poet's Doctor had not a Scrap of Paper in his House, but muft send out to borrow fome? As Caius is reprefented a Frenchman, and generally fpeaks half French, half English, it is much more probable to believe, our Author wrote, Baillez me fome Paper, i e. fetch, bring, give me fome. So the French fay, Bail lex la main, Give me your hand; Bailler une oeilla de, to give One the Wink, &c.

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Quic. Sir, the maid loves you, and all fhall be well: we must give folks leave to prate; what, the good-jer!

Caius. Rugby, come to the Court with me;

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gar, if I have not Anne Page, I fhall turn your head door ;my follow my heels, Rugby.

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[Ex. Caius and Rugby.

Quic. You fhall have An fools-head of your own. No, I know Anne's mind for that; never a Woman in Windfor knows more of Anne's mind than I do, nor can do more than I do with her, I thank heav'n.

Fent. [within.] Who's within there, hoa?

Quic. Who's there, I trow? come near the house, I pray you.

Enter Mr. Fenton.

Fent. How now, good woman, how doft thou?
Quic. The better, that it pleafes your good worship

to ask.

Fent. What news? how does pretty mistress Anne? Quic. In truth, Sir, and fhe is pretty, and honeft, and gentle; and one that is your friend, I can tell you that by the way, I praise heav'n for it.

Fent. Shall I do any good, think'st thou? fhall Í not lofe my fuit?

Quic. Troth, Sir, all is in his hands above; but notwithstanding, mafler Fenton, I'll be fworn on a book, The loves you have not your worship a wart above your eye?

Fent. Yes, marry, have I; and what of that?

Quic. Well, thereby hangs a tale; good faith, it is fuch another Nan; but, I deteft, an honeft maid as ever broke bread; we had an hour's talk of that wart ? I fhall never laugh but in that maid's company! but, indeed, fhe is given too much to allicholly and mufing but for you Wellgo to

Fent. Well, I fhall fee her to day; hold, there's mony for thee: let me have thy voice in my behalf, if thou feeft her before me, commend me

VOL. I.

R

Quit

Quic. Will I ay, faith, that we will: and I will tell your worship more of the wart, the next time we have confidence, and of other wooers.

Fen. Well, farewel, I am in great hafte now. [Exit. Quic. Farewel to your worship. Truly, an honeft gentleman, but Anne loves him not; I know Anne's mind as well as another does. Out upon't, what have I forgot? [Exit.

ACT II.

SCENE, before Page's house.
Enter Mrs. Page, with a letter.

W

Mrs. PAG E.

HAT, have I 'fcap'd love-letters in the holy-day-time of my beauty, and am I now a fubject for them? let me fee:

Ask me no reafon, why I love you; for tho' love ufe rea fon for his precifian, he admits him not for his counsellor: you are not young, no more am I; go to then, there's fympathy: you are merry, fo am I, ha! ha! then there's more fympathy; you love fack, and fo do I; would you defire better fympathy? let it fuffice thee, miftrefs Page, at the leaft if the love of a foldier can fuffice, that I love thee. I will not fay, pity me, 'tis not a foldier-like phrafe but I fay, 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 Falftaff.

What a Herod of Jury is this? O wicked, wicked world! one that is well nigh worn to pieces with age, to show himself a young gallant! what unweigh'd be

haviour

haviour hath this Flemish drunkard pickt, i'th' devil's name, out of my converfation, that he dares in this manner affay me? why, he hath not been thrice in my company what fhould I fay to him? I was then frugal of my mirth, heav'n forgive me: why, I'll exhibit (11) a Bill in the Parliament for the putting down of fat men: how fhall I be reveng'd on him? for res veng'd I will be, as fure as his guts are made of puddings. Enter Mrs. Ford.

Mrs. Ford. Miftrefs Page, truft me, I was going to your house.

Mrs. Page. And truft me, I was coming to you; you look very ill.

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

Mrs. Page. 'Faith, but you do, in my mind.

Mrs. Ford. Well, I do then; yet I fay, I could fhew you to the contrary: O miftrefs Page, give me fome counsel.

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

Mrs. Ford. O woman! if it were not for one trifling respect, I could come to fuch honour.

Mrs. Page. Hang the trifle, woman, take the honour; what is it? difpenfe with trifles, what is it?

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

Mrs. Page. What, thou lieft! Sir Alice Ford! thefe Knights will hack, and fo thou fhouldft not alter the article of thy gentry.

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(11) — a bill in the Parliament for the putting down of Men:] What, Mrs. Page, put down the whole Species Unius ob noxam, for a fingle Offender's Trefpafs? Don't be fo unreasonable in your Anger. But 'tis a falfe Charge against You. I am perfuaded, a fhort Monofyllable is dropt out, which, once reftor'd, would qualify the Matter. We must neceffarily read, for the putting down of fat Men. - Mrs. Ford fays in the very enfuing Scene, I shall think the worfe of fat Men, as long as I have an Eye, &c. And in the old Quarto's, Mrs. Page, fo foon as the has read the Letter, fays, Well, I fall truft fat Men the worse, while I live, for his fake: And he is call'd, the fat Knight, the greafy Knight, by the Women, throughout the Play. R 2

Mrs.

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