church-men, Mr. Page, we have fome falt of our youth in us; we are the fons of women, Mr. Page. Page. 'Tis true, Mr. Shallow. Shal. It will be found fo, Mr. Page. Mr. Doctor Caius, I am come to fetch you home; I am fworn of the peace; you have fhew'd your self a wife physician, and Sir Hugh hath fhown himself a wife and patient church-man: you must go with me, Mr. Doctor. Hoft. Pardon, gueft-juftice, a word, monfieur mock water. Caius. Mock-vater? vat is dat? Hoft. Mock-water, in our English tongue, is valour, bully. Caius. By gar, then I have as much mock-vater as de Englishman, fcurvy-jack-dog-priest; by gar, me vill cut his ears. Hoft. He will clapper-claw thee tightly, bully. Hoft. That is, he will make thee amends. Caius. By gar, me do look, he fhall clapper-de-claw me; for by gar, me vill have it. Hoft. And I will provoke him to't, or let him wag. Caius. Me tank you for dat. Hoft. And moreover, bully: but first, Mr. Gueft, and Mr. Page, and eek Cavaliero Slender, go you through the town to Frogmore. Page. Sir Hugh is there, is he? Hoft. He is there; fee, what humour he is in; and I will bring the Doctor about the fields: will it do well? Shal. We will do it. All. Adieu, good Mr. Doctor. [Ex. Page, Shal. and Slen. Caius. By gar, me vill kill de prieft; for he fpeak for a jack-an-ape to Anne Page. Hoft. Let him die; but, first, sheath 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 shalt woo her. (17) Try'd Game, faid I well? Caius. By gar, me tank you vor dat: by gar, I love you; and I fhall procure 'a you de good gueft; de Earl, de Knight, de Lords, de Gentlemen, my pa tients. Hoft. For the which I will be thy adversary toward Anne Page: faid I well? Caius. By gar, 'tis good; vell faid. Caius. Come at my heels, Jack Rugby. [Exeunt. A C T III. SCENE, Frogmore near Windsor. I Enter Evans, and Simple. EVANS. Pray you now, good mafter Slender's fervingmang and friend Simple by your name, which way have you look'd for mafter Caius, that calls himself Doctor of Phyfick? Simp. Marry, Sir, the Pitty-wary, the Park-ward, every way, old Windfor way, and every way but the town way. 1 Eva. Í most fehemently defire you, you will also look that way. Simp. I will, Sir. (17) And thou shalt woo her. Cride-Game,] Thus the old Folio's. The Quarto's with a little Difference. And thou shalt wear her cry'd Game. Said I well? Neither of the Readings furnish any Idea; nor can be genuine. Try'd Game, as I have reitor'd it, may well fignify, Thou old Cock of the Game; thou experienced Sinner: and might be reasonably apply'd to Caius, who was an old Batchellor, and had Dame Quickly for his Housekeeper. Eva. 'Plefs my foul, how full of chollars I am, and trempling of mind! I fhall be glad, if he have deceiv'd me; how melanchollies I am! I will knog his urinals about his knave's coftard, when I have good opportunities for the orke: 'Plefs my foul! [Sings, being afraid. By fhallow 'Mercy on me, I have a great difpofi- Simp. Yonder he is coming, this way, Sir Hugh. Eva. He's welcome. By shallow rivers, to whose falls Heav'n profper the right: what weapons is he? Simp. No weapons, Sir; there comes my master, Mr. Shallow, and another gentleman from Frogmore, over the ftile, 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 Parfon? good morrow, good Sir Hugh. Keep a gamefter from the dice, and a good ftudent from his book, and it is wonderful. Slen. Ah, fweet Anne Page! Page. Save you, good Sir Hugh. Eva. 'Plefs you from his mercy-fake, all of you. Shal. What? the fword and the word? do you ftu dy them both, Mr. Parfon? (18) By Shallow Rivers,] The Stanza, which Sir Hugh repeats here, is part of a sweet little Sonnet of our Author's, and printed among his Poems, call'd, The Paffionate Shepherd to his Love, MILTON was fo enamour'd with this Poem, and the Nymph's Reply to it, that he bas borrow'd the Clofe of his L'Allegro, and Il Penferofo from them I don't know, whether it has been generally obferv'd, but it is with wer derful Humour, in his finging, that Sir Hugh intermixes, with his Madrigal the first Line of the 137th finging Pfalm. Pages S3 : Page. And youthful ftill, in your doublet and hofe, this raw-rheumatick day? Eva. There is reafons and causes for it. Page. We are come to you, to do a good office, Mr. Parfon. Eva. Ferry well: what is it? Page. Yonder is a moft reverend gentleman, who, belike, having receiv'd wrong by fome perfon, is at moft odds with his own gravity and patience, that ever you faw. Shal. I have liv'd fourfcore years, and upward; I never heard a man of his place, gravity and learning, fo wide of his own refpect. Eva. What is he? Page. I think, you know him; Mr. Doctor Caius, the renowned French phyfician. Eva. Got's will, and his paffion of my heart! I had as lief you fhould tell me of a mess of porridge. Page. Why? Eva. He has no more knowledge in Hibocrates and Galen; and he is a knave, befides; a cowardly knave as you would defire to be acquainted withal. Page. I warrant you, he's the man should fight with him. Slen. O, fweet Anne Page! Enter Hoft, Caius, and Rugby. Shal. It appears fo, by his weapons: keep them afunder; here comes Doctor Caius. Page. Nay, good Mr. Parfon, keep in your weapon. Hoft. Difarm 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 with your ear: wherefore 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. Eva. Pray you, let us not be laughing-stocks to other mens humours: I defire you in friendship, and will one one way or other make you amends; I will knog your urinal about your knave's cogs-comb, for miffing your meetings and appointments. Caius. Diable! Jack Rugby, mine Hoft de Jarteer, have I not stay for him, to kill him? have I not, at de place I did appoint? Eva. As I am a chriftian's foul, now look you, this is the place appointed; I'll be judgment by mine Hoft of the Garter. Hoft. Peace, I fay, Gallia and Gaul, French and Welch, foul-curer and body-curer. Caius. Ay, dat is very good, excellent. Hoft. Peace, I fay; hear mine Hoft of the Garter. Am I politiek? am I fubtle? am I a Machiavel? fhall I lose my Doctor? no; he gives me the potions and the motions. Shall I lofe my Parfon? my Prieft? my Sir Hugh? no; he gives me the proverbs and the noverbs. Give me thy hand, terreftrial; fo: Give me thy hand, celeftial; fo. Boys of art, I have deceiv'd you both: I have directed you to wrong places: your hearts are mighty, your skins are whole, and let burn'd fack be the Iffue. Come, lay their fwords to pawn. Follow me, lad of peace, follow, follow, follow. Shal. Trust me, a mad hoft. Follow, gentlemen, follow. Slen. O fweet Anne Page! [Ex. Shal. Slen. Page and Hoft. Caius. Ha! do I perceive dat? have you make a-defot of us, ha, ha? Eva. This is well, he has made us his vloutingftog. I defire you, that we may be friends; and let us knog our prains together to be revenge on this fame fcald-fcurvy-cogging companion, the Hoft of the Garter. Carus. By gar, with all my heart; he promise to bring me where is Anne Page; by gar, he deceive me too. Eva. Well, I will fmite his noddles; pray you, fol low. S 4 [Exeunt. SCENE |