The Merry Wives of Windsor 2019 for Free Globe Player Shakespeares Globe

Sir Hugh, persuade me not. I will make a Star-Chamber matter of it, if he were twenty Sir John Falstaffs, he shall not abuse Robert Shallow, esquire. In the county of Gloucester, Justice of Peace and Coram. Ay cousin Slender, and Cust-a-lorum. Ay, and Rato lorum too. And a gentleman born master parson, who writes himself Armigero, in any bill, warrant, quittance, or obligation – Ami – Ay that I do, and have done any time these three hundred years. If Sir John Falstaff have committed disparagements unto you, I am of the church and will be glad to do my benevolence, to make atonements and compromises between you. The council shall hear it, it is a riot. It is not meet the council hear a riot: there is no fear of Got in a riot. Ha: o'my life, if I were young again, the sword should end it. Ah. O, o. It is petter that friends is the sword, and end it. And there is also another device in my prain, which peradventure prings goot discretions with it. There is Anne Page, which is daughter to Master George Page, which is pretty virginity. Mistress Anne Page? She has brown hair, and speaks small like a woman. It is that fery person for all the 'orld, as just as you will desire, and seven hundred pounds of moneys, and gold, and silver, did her grandsire upon his death's bed, got deliver to a joyful resurrections, give, when she is able to overtake seventeen years old. It were a goot motion, if we leave our pribbles and prabbles, and desire a marriage between Master Abraham, and Mistress Anne Page. Did her grandsire leave her seven hundred pound? Ay, and her father is make her a pretty penny. I know the young gentlewoman, o she has good gifts. Hmm -- Seven hundred pounds, and possibilities is goot gifts. Well, let us see honest Master Page. Is Falstaff there? Shall I tell you a lie? I do despise a liar, as I do despise one that is false, or as I despise one that is not true. The knight Sir John is there, and I beseech you be ruled by your well-willers. I will peat the door for Master Page. What ho? Got pless your house here. Who's there? Here is Got's plessing and your friend, and Justice Shallow, and here young Master Slender, that peradventures shall tell you another tale, if matters grow to your likings. I am glad to see your worships well: I thank you for my venison Master Shallow. Master Page, I am glad to see you. Much good do it your good heart. I wished your venison better, it was ill killed. How doth good Mistress Page? And I thank you always with my heart, la: with my heart. Sir, I thank you. No, I thank you: by yea, and no I do. I am glad to see you, good Master Slender. How does your fallow greyhound, sir, I heard say he was outrun on Cotsall. It could not be judged, sir. You'll not confess. You'll not confess. That he will not, 'tis your fault, 'tis your fault: 'tis a good dog, sir. A cur, sir. Sir: he's a good dog, and a fair dog, can there be more said? He is good, and fair. Is Sir John Falstaff here? Sir, he is within: and I would I could do a good office between you. It is spoke as a Christians ought to speak. He hath wronged me, Master Page. Sir, he doth in some sort confess it. If it be confessed, it is not redressed. Is not that so, Master Page? He hath wronged me, indeed he hath, at a word he hath. Believe me, Robert Shallow esquire, saith he is wronged. Here comes Sir John. Now, Master Shallow, you'll complain of me to the king? Knight, you have beaten my men, killed my deer, and broke open my lodge. But not kissed your keeper's daughter? Tut, a pin: this shall be answered. I will answer it straight, I have done all this: that is now answered. The council shall know this. 'Twere better for you if it were known in counsel: you'll be laughed at. Pauca verba: Sir John, good worts. Good worts? Good cabbage. Slender, I broke your head: what matter have you against me? Marry sir, I have matter in my head against you, and against your coney-catching rascals, Bardolph, Nym, and Pistol. You Banbury cheese. Ay, it is no matter. How now, Mephostophilus? Ay, it is no matter. Slice, I say. Slice! That's my humour. Peace, I pray you, now. Nay daughter, carry the wine in, we'll drink within. Oh heaven. This is Mistress Anne Page. How now, Mistress Ford? Mistress Ford… By my troth you are very well met: by your leave good mistress. Wife, bid these gentlemen welcome. Come, we have a hot venison pasty to dinner. Come gentlemen, I hope we shall drink down all unkindness. I had rather than forty shillings I had my book of Songs and Sonnets here. How now Simple, where have you been? I must wait on myself, must I? You have not the book of riddles about you, have you? Come coz, come coz, we stay for you. A word with you coz: marry this, coz: There is as 'twere a tender, a kind of tender, made afar off by Sir Hugh here. Do you understand me? Ay sir, you shall find me reasonable, if it be so, I shall do that that is reason. Nay, but understand me. So I do sir. The question is concerning your marriage. Ay, there's the point sir. Marry is it: the very point of it, to Mistress Anne Page. Why if it be so, I will marry her upon any reasonable demands. But can you affection the 'oman? Let us command to know that of your mouth, or of your lips. Can you carry your good will to the maid? That you must: will you, upon good dowry, marry her? I will do a greater thing than that, upon your request cousin, in any reason. Nay conceive me, conceive me, sweet coz. What I do is to pleasure you, coz: can you love the maid? I will marry her sir, at your request, but if there be no great love in the beginning, yet heaven may decrease it upon better acquaintance, when we are married, and have more occasion to know one another. I hope upon f-- familiarity will grow more content. But if you say marry her, I will marry her, that I am freely dissolved, and dissolutely. It is a fery discretion answer, save the faul' is in the 'ord dissolutely. The 'ord is, accordig to our meaning, resolutely’: his meaning is good. Here comes fair Mistress Anne. Would I were young for your sake, Mistress Anne. The dinner is on the table, my father desires your worships' company. I will wait on him, fair Mistress Anne. 'Od's plessed will: I will not be absence at the grace. Will't please your worship to come in, sir? No, no, I thank you forsooth, heartily. I am very well. The dinner attends you, sir. I am not a-hungry, I thank you, forsooth. Go, sirrah, go wait upon my cousin, Shallow. A justice of peace sometime may be beholding to his friend, for a man. I may not go in without your worship: they will not sit till you come. I'faith, I'll eat nothing: I thank you as much as though I did. I pray you sir walk in. I had rather walk here. I thank you. Walk, yes -- Help me. I bruised my shin th'other day, with playing at sword and dagger with a master of fence. Why do your dogs bark so? Be there bears i'th' town? I think there are sir, I heard them talked of. I love the sport well. But I shall as soon quarrel at it, as any man in England. You are afraid if you see the bear loose, are you not? Ay, indeed sir. That's meat and drink to me now. Come, gentle Master Slender, come. We stay for you. I'll eat nothing, sir, I thank you. By cock and pie, you shall not choose, sir: come, come. Nay, pray you lead the way. Come on, sir. Mistress Anne: yourself shall go first. I pray you sir, not I, keep on. Truly I will not go first: truly - la. I will not do you. I pray you sir. I'll rather be unmannerly, than troublesome: You do yourself wrong indeed - la. Go your ways, and ask of Doctor Caius' house, which is the way. There dwells one Mistress Quickly, which is in the manner of his nurse, or his dry-nurse, or his cook, or his laundry, his washer, and his wringer. Well, sir. Nay, it is petter yet. Give her this letter. For it is a 'oman that altogethers acquaintance with Mistress Anne Page, and the letter is to desire, and require her to solicit your master's desires, to Mistress Anne Page. I pray you be gone. Now. I will make an end of my dinner. There's pippins and cheese to come. Let us sip. And let it slip. And let it go which way it will. Let us skip. And let us trip. I pray you let it swill. And let us drink our fill. Here’s good wine. The ale is fine. So drink of what you will. Take the cup. And drink all up. Good drinkers. Give me the can to fill. Yes. Yes, o, my, yes. Mine host of the Garter? What says my bully rook? Speak scholarly, and wisely. Truly mine host, I must turn away some of my followers. Let them wag: trot, trot. I will entertain Bardolph: he shall draw, he shall tap, said I well, bully Hector? Do so, good mine host. I have spoke: let him follow. Bardolph, follow her: a tapster is a good trade: go, adieu. It is a life that I have desired. I will thrive. Well sirs, I am almost out at heels. There is no remedy: I must coney-catch, I must shift. Young ravens must have food. Which of you know Ford of this town? I ken the wight. He is of substance good. My honest lads. Ah, honest. Ah, lads. I will tell you what I am about. About two yards, and more. 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. Did you hear me? To his 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 Englished rightly, is ‘I am Sir John Falstaff's.’ Now, the report goes, she has all the rule of her husband's purse. I have writ me here a letter to her, and here another to Page's wife, who even now gave me good eyes too. Examined my parts with most judicious 'oeillades'. That’s French for ogle, look it up. Sometimes -- Sometimes the beam of her view, gilded my foot. Sometimes my portly belly. Then did the sun on dunghill shine. I thank thee for that humour. Oh, 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. I will be cheaters 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. Shall I Sir Pandarus of Troy become, and by my side wear steel? Then Lucifer take all. I will run no base humour: here. Take the humour-letter. I will keep the 'havior of reputation. Hold. Sirrah. Bear you these letters tightly, sail like my pinnace to these golden shores. Pinnace, small boat. Sail like my small boat to these golden shores. Rogues, hence, avaunt, vanish like hailstones. Go. Trudge. Plod away i'th' hoof: seek shelter, pack. Falstaff will learn the honour of the age, French thrift, you rogues, my self, and skirted page. Let vultures gripe thy guts. Your base Phrygian Turk. I have operations, which be humours of revenge. Wilt thou revenge? By welkin, and her star. With wit, or steel? With both the humours, I. I will discuss the humour of this love to Ford. And I to Page shall eke unfold how Falstaff, varlet vile, his dove will prove, his gold will hold, and his soft couch defile. My humour shall not cool. I will incense Ford to deal with poison. I will possess him with yellowness, for this revolt of mine is dangerous. That is my true humour. Thou art the Mars of malcontents: I second thee: troop on. What, John Rugby. I pray thee go to the casement, and see if you see my master, Master Doctor Caius, coming. If he do i'faith and find anybody in the house, here will be an old abusing of God's patience, and the king's English. I'll go watch. Go, and we'll have a posset for't soon at night. Peter Simple, you say your name is? Ay: for fault of a better. And Master Slender's your master? Ay, forsooth. I should remember him. Does he not hold up his head, as it were, and strut in his gait? Yes, indeed, does he. Well, heaven send Anne Page no worse fortune. Tell Master parson Evans, I will do what I can for your master: Anne is a good girl, and I wish -- Out alas: here comes my master. We shall all be shent. Run in here, good young man. Go into this closet. Go into 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. Peanuts. They’re nice and hot. Peanuts. I like a lot. If you're -- Vat is you sing? I do not like dese toys. Pray you go and vetch me in my closet, une boȋtine verte. A box. A box, a box, a green-a box. Tu entends vat I speak? A green-a box. A green-a box. 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. Fi, fi, fi, fi, ma foi, il fait fort chaud. Pardon. It is too hot. I am too hot. Are you too hot? No? Well, you look too hot. So many of you. Too hot, too hot, too hot. Up there, they are far too hot. Je m'en vais voir à la cour – O, la grande affaire. Is it this sir? Oui mette-la à ma pochette, vous dépêche quickly. Yes. No, quickly. By my trot: I tarry too long: 'Od's-me, qu'ai-je oublié. dere is some simples in my closet, dat I vill not for the varld I shall leave behind. Ay me. He'll find the young man there, and be mad. Oh! Diable, diable. Vat is in my closet? Villainy. Rugby, my rapier. Good master, be content. Wherefore shall I be content-a? The young man is an honest man. What shall de honest man do in my closet? Dere is no honest man dat shall come in my closet. I beseech you be not so phlegmatic. Hear the truth of it. He came of an errand to me, from parson Hugh. Ok. Vell. Ay, forsooth: to desire her to -- Peace, I pray you. Peace-a your tongue: speak-a your tale. Ay forsooth: to desire this honest gentlewoman, your maid, to speak a good word to Mistress Anne Page, for my master in the way of marriage. Sir Hugh send-a you? Rugby, baille me some paper. Tarry you a little-a while. I am glad he is so quiet. If he had been throughly moved, you should have heard him so loud, and so melancholy. But notwithstanding man, I'll do you your master what good I can. Cause the very yea, and the no is, the French Doctor, my master, himself is in love with Mistress Anne Page. But notwithstanding that I know Anne's mind, that's neither here nor there. You, jack'nape'. Give-a this letter to Sir Hugh, by gar, it is a shallenge. I will cut his troat in de Park, and I will teach the scurvy jackanape' priest to meddle, or make. You may be gone. It is not good you tarry here. I need the letter. By gar I will cut all his two stones. By gar, he shall not have a stone to throw at his dog. Alas: he speaks but for his friend. It is no matter-a ver dat. Do not you tell-a me dat I shall have Anne Page for my self? A fish? Anne Page. A witch? Anne Page. Anne Page! Anne Page. By gar, I vill kill de priest. And I have appointed mine host of de Jarteer to measure our weapon. By gar, I will my self have Anne Page. Sir, the maid loves you, and all shall be well. We must give folks leave to prate: what the goodyear. Rugby, come to the court with me. By gar, I will have Anne Page, or I will turn your head out of my door. Follow my heels, Rugby. You shall have An-- fool's 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 with Anne than I can, I thank heaven. Who's within there, ho? Who's there, I trow? Come near the house I pray you. How now good woman, how dost thou? The better that it pleases your good worship to ask. What news? How does pretty Mistress Anne? In truth sir, 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. Shall I do any good, thinkst thou? Shall I not lose my suit? Troth sir. All is in his hands above. But notwithstanding Master Fenton, I'll be sworn on a book she loves you. Well -- I shall see her today. Hold. There's money for thee. Let me have thy voice in my behalf: if thou seest her before me, commend me. Will I? I'faith, that we will: And -- I will tell your worship more the next time we have confidence, and of other wooers. Well -- Farewell, I am in great haste now. Farewell to your worship. Truly an honest gentleman. But Anne loves him not: for I know Anne's mind as well as another does. Out upon't: what have I forgot? What -- Have I scaped love-letters in the holiday-time of my beauty, and am I now a subject for them? Let me see? 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? Oh -- 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? Throw him in the Thames. Don't be so daft. I’ll give it some thought. For revenged I will be? As sure as his guts are made of puddings. Mistress Page, trust me, I was going to your house. And trust me, I was coming to you. Oh Mistress Page, give me some counsel. What's the matter, woman? Oh woman. If it were not for one trifling respect, I could come to such honor. Hang the trifle woman, take the honor: what is it? dispense with trifles: what is it? If I would but go to hell, for an eternal moment, or so: I could be knighted. What? Thou liest? Sir Alice Ford? We burn daylight: 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. What tempest I trow threw this whale, with so many tons of oil in his belly, ashore at Windsor? How shall I be revenged on him? And don’t say put him in the Thames. 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? 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. Well, I will find you twenty lascivious turtles ere one chaste man. Why these are the very same. It’s the very hand, the very words. What doth he think of us? Nay I know not. It makes me almost ready to wrangle with mine own honesty. I'll entertain myself like one that I am not acquainted withal. For sure unless he know some strain in me, that I know not my self, he would never have boarded me in this fury. Boarding, call you it? I'll be sure to keep him above deck. 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 pawned his horses to mine host of the Garter. Nay, I will consent to act any villainy against him, that may not sully the chariness of our honesty. Oh that my husband saw this letter. It would give eternal food to his jealousy. 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. You are the happier woman. Let's consult together against this greasy knight. Come hither. Well -- I hope it be not so. Hope is a curtal dog in some affairs. Sir John affects thy wife. Why sir, my wife is not young. He woos both high and low, both rich and poor, both young and old, the one with the other Ford, he loves the gallimaufry Ford, perpend. Loves my wife? With liver, burning hot. Prevent. Oh. Odious's the name. What name sir? The horn I say. Farewell. Take heed, have open eye, for thieves do foot by night. Take heed, ere summer comes, or cuckoo-birds do sing. Away Sir Corporal Nym. Believe it Page, he speaks sense. I will be patient. I will find out this. And this is true. 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: adieu. Here’s a fellow frights English out of his wits. I will seek out Falstaff. I never heard such a drawling-affecting rogue. If I do find it: well. I will not believe such a Cathayan, though the priest o'th'town commended him for a true man. 'Twas a good sensible fellow: well. How now Meg? Whether go you George? Hark you. How now sweet Frank, why art thou melancholy? I melancholy? I am not melancholy. Get you home: go. Faith. Thou hast some crochets in thy head, now. Will you go, Mistress Page? Have with you. You'll come to dinner, George? Look who comes yonder. She shall be our messenger to this paltry knight. Trust me, I thought on her. She'll fit it. You are come to see my daughter Anne? Ay forsooth: and I pray. How does good Mistress Anne? Go in with us and see: we have an hour's talk with you. How now Master Ford? You heard what this knave told me, did you not? Yes, and you heard what the other told me? Do you think there is truth in them? 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. Were they his men? Marry were they. I like it never the better for that. Does he lie at the Garter? Ay marry he does. If he should intend this voyage toward 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. 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 lie on my head. I cannot be thus satisfied. Look where my ranting host of the Garter comes. There is either liquor in her pate, or money in her purse, when she looks so merrily. How now mine host? Oh, how now bully rook, thou'rt a gentleman, ah. Cavaliero Justice, I say. I follow, mine host, I follow. O, good even, and twenty Master Page. Master Page, will you go with us? We have some sport in hand. Tell him, Cavaliero Justice: tell him, bully rook. Sir, there is a fray to be fought, between Sir Hugh the Welsh priest, and Caius the French doctor. Yes. Good mine host o'th' Garter: a word with you. What sayst thou, my bully rook? Will you go with us to behold it? My merry host hath had the measuring of their weapons, and I think hath appointed them contrary places. For believe me I hear the parson is no jester. Hark, will you hear what our sport shall be. Hast thou no suit against my knight? My guest-cavaliero? None, I protest. But I'll give you a bottle of burned sack, to give me recourse to him, and tell him my name is Brook -- only for a jest. 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 mijn heers? Have with you mine host. I have heard the French-man hath good skill in his rapier. Tut sir: I could have told you more. In these times you stand on distance. Your passes, your stoccadoes, and I know not what. 'Tis the heart Master Page, 'tis here, 'tis here. O, o. The tablets, it's the tablets, it's the tablets. Here boys, here, here: shall we wag? Have with you. 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 do find her honest, I lose not my labor. If she be otherwise, 'tis labor well bestowed. No, no, no. I will not lend thee a penny. Why then the world's mine oyster, which I, with sword will open. Not a penny. I have been content sir, you should lay my countenance to pawn. I have grated upon my good friends for three reprieves for you, and your coach-fellow Nym. 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. I'm fain to shuffle: to hedge, and to lurch, and yet, you rogue, will ensconce your rags and your bold-beating oaths, under the shelter of your honour: you will not do it? You? Alright, fifteen pence? Get out. Sir, here's a woman would speak with you. Let her approach. Give your worship good morrow. Good morrow, good wife. Not so, an't please your worship. Oh, good maid then. I'll be sworn, as my mother was the first hour I was born. I do believe the swearer. What with me? Shall I vouchsafe your worship a word, or two? Two thousand fair woman, and I'll vouchsafe thee the hearing. Sir, I pray come a little nearer this ways. There is one Mistress Ford -- Wait there. I myself dwell with Master Doctor Caius. Wait there. Well, on: Mistress Ford, you say. Your worship says very true. I pray your worship come a little nearer this ways. I warrant thee, nobody hears: mine own people, mine own people. Are they so? Well, heaven bless them, and make them his servants. Well. Mistress Ford, what of her? Why, sir. She's a good creature. Lord, lord, your worship's a wanton. Wanton? Wanton. O, wanton. Well: heaven forgive you, and all of us, I pray that we -- Mistress Ford: come, Mistress Ford. 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 could never have brought her to such a canary. And 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, and all musk, and so rushling, I warrant, in silk and gold, that would have won any woman's heart. And I warrant you, they could never get an eye-wink of her. But what says she to me? Be brief, my good she-Mercury. Marry, she hath received your letter. And she gives you to notify, that her husband will be absence from his house, between ten and eleven. Yea. Yea. O, yea. Yea. Yea. O, yea. Yea. Yea. Ten and eleven? Ay, forsooth. And then you may come and see the picture, she says, that you wot of. Master Ford her husband will be from home. Alas, the sweet woman leads an ill life with him. He's a very jealousy man, she leads a very frampold life with him, good heart. Ten, and eleven. Woman, commend me to her, I will not fail her. Why, you say well: but I have another messenger to your worship. Mistress Page hath her hearty commendations to you too. Yea. O, yea. Yea. O, yea. Yea. Yea. And let me tell you in your ear. She's as fartuous a civil modest wife, as any is in Windsor. And she bade me tell your worship, that her husband is seldom from home, but she hopes there will come a time. I never knew a woman so dote upon a man. Surely I think you have charms, la: yes in truth. Not I, I assure thee. Setting the attraction of my good parts aside, I have no other charms. Blessing on your heart for't. But I pray thee tell me this. Has Ford's wife, and Page's wife acquainted each other, how they love me? That were a jest indeed. They have not so little grace I hope, that were a trick indeed. But Mistress Page would desire you to send her your little boy of all loves. Her husband has a marvellous infection to the little boy. And truly Master Page is an honest man. Never a wife in Windsor leads a better life than she does and truly she deserves it. For if there be a kind woman in Windsor, she is one. You must send her your boy, no remedy. Why, I will. Nay, but do so then, and look you, he may come and go between you both. And in any case have a nay-word, that you may know one another's mind, but the boy need never understand any thing. For `tis not good that children should know any wickedness. Old folks, you know, have discretion, as they say, and know the world. Fare thee well, commend me to them both. There is my purse, I am yet thy debtor. Got any change? Boy, go along with this woman, this news distracts me. Sayst thou so old Jack, go thy ways. I'll make more of thy old body than I have done. Will they yet look after thee? Wilt thou after the expense of so much money, be now a gainer? Good body, I thank thee. Let them say 'tis grossly done, so it be fairly done, no matter. Sir John, there's one Master Brook would fain speak with you, and be acquainted with you, and hath sent your worship a morning's draught of sack. Brook is his name? Ay, sir. Call him in. Such Brooks are welcome to me, that o'erflows such liquor. Ha ha. Mistress Ford and Mistress Page, have I encompassed you? Go to, via. 'Bless you sir. And you sir: would you speak with me? I make bold, to press, with so little preparation upon you. You're welcome, what's your will? Give us leave tapster. Sir. I am a gentleman that have spent much, my name is Brook. Good Master Brook, I desire more acquaintance of you. Good Sir John, I sue for yours: and I have a bag of money here troubles me. If you will help to bear it Sir John, take all, or half, for easing me of the carriage. Sir, I know not how I may deserve to be your porter. I will tell you sir, if you will give me the hearing. Speak, good Master Brook, I shall be glad to be your servant. Sir. I shall discover a thing to you, wherein I must very much lay open mine own imperfection. Very well sir, proceed. There is a gentlewoman in this town, her husband's name is Ford. Well, sir. I have long loved her, and I protest to you, bestowed much on her. Briefly, I have pursued her, as love hath pursued me, which hath been on the wing of all occasions. But whatsoever I have merited, either in my mind, or in my means, meed I am sure I have received none, unless experience be a jewel, that I have purchased at an infinite rate, and that hath taught me to say this: “Love like a shadow flies, when substance love pursues". "Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues”. Have you received no promise of satisfaction at her hands? Never. Have you importuned her to such a purpose? Never. Of what quality was your love then? Like a fair house, built on another man's ground. So that I have lost my edifice, by mistaking the place, where I erected it. To what purpose have you unfolded this to me? When I have told you that, I have told you all. Some say, that though she appear honest to me, yet in other places she enlargeth her mirth so far, that there is shrewd construction made of her. Now, Sir John. Here is the heart of my purpose. You are a gentleman of excellent breeding, admirable discourse, of great importance, authentic in your place and person, generally allowed for your many -- war-like, court-like, and learned preparations. Oh, sir. Believe it, for you know it. There is money, spend it, spend it, spend more, spend all I have, only give me so much of your time in exchange of it, as to lay an amiable siege to the honesty of this Ford's wife. Use your art of wooing. Win her to consent to you. If any man may, you may as soon as any. Would it apply well to the vehemency of your affection that I should win what you would enjoy? Methinks you prescribe to yourself very preposterously. Oh, understand my drift. She dwells so securely upon the excellency of her honour, that the folly of my soul dares not reveal itself. She is too bright to be looked against. Now. Could I come to her with any detection in my hand. My desires had instance and argument to commend themselves, I could drive her then from the ward of her purity, her reputation, her marriage-vow, and a thousand other her defences, which now are too, too strongly embattled against me. What say you too’t, Sir John? Master Brook, I will first make bold with your money. Next, give me your hand: and last, as I am a gentleman, you shall, if you will, enjoy Ford's wife. Oh. Good sir. You shall. I say you shall. Want no money Sir John, you shall want none. Want no Mistress Ford, Master Brook, you shall want none. I shall be with her, I may tell you, by her own appointment. Ah. Even as you came in to me, her assistant, or go-between, parted from me. I say I shall be with her between ten and eleven. For at that time the jealous-rascally-knave her husband will be forth. Come you to me at night, you shall know how I speed. I am blest -- in your acquaintance. Do you know Ford, sir? Hang him, poor cuckoldly knave, I know him not. Yet I wrong him to call him poor. They say the jealous wittolly knave hath masses of money, for the which his wife seems to me well-favoured. I will use her as the key of the cuckoldly-rogue’s coffer, and there’s my harvest-home. I would you knew Ford, sir, that you might avoid him, if you saw him. Hang him, mechanical-salt-butter rogue. I will stare him out of his wits. I will awe him with my cudgel. It shall hang like a meteor o'er the cuckold's horns. Master Brook, thou shalt know, I will predominate over the peasant, and thou shalt lie with his wife. Come to me soon at night. Ford's a knave, and I will aggravate his style. Thou Master Brook, shalt know him for knave, and cuckold. Come to me soon, at night. What a damned epicurian-rascal is this? My heart is ready to crack with impatience. Who says this is improvident jealousy? My wife hath sent to him, the hour is fixed, the match is made. Would any man have thought this? See the hell of having a false woman. My bed shall be abused, my coffers ransacked, my reputation gnawn at, and I shall not only receive this villainous wrong, but stand under the adoption of abominable terms, and by him that does me this wrong. Terms, names. Amaimon sounds well. Lucifer, well. Barbason, well. Yet they are devils' additions, the names of fiends. But cuckold? Wittol? Cuckold? The Devil himself hath not such a name. Page is an ass, a secure ass. He will trust his wife, he will not be jealous. I will rather trust a Fleming with my butter, Parson Hugh the Welshman with my cheese, an Irishman with my aquavitae bottle, or a thief to walk my ambling gelding, than my wife with herself. Then she plots, then she ruminates, then she devises. And what they think in their hearts they may effect. Or they will break their hearts but they will effect. Heaven be praised for my jealousy. Eleven o'clock the hour, I will prevent this, detect my wife, be revenged on Falstaff, and laugh at Page. I will about it. Better three hours too soon than a minute too late. Fie, fie, fie. Cuckold. Cuckold. Cuckold. Jack Rugby. Sir. Vat is the clock? Vat is the clock? Vat is the clock? Oh, 'tis, hm -- 'Tis past the hour sir, that Sir Hugh promised to meet. By gar, he has save his soul, dat he is no come. Ah, he has pray his pible well, dat he is no come. By gar, Jack Rugby, he is dead already, if he be come. O. He is wise, sir. He knew your worship would kill him if he came. By gar, de herring is no dead, so as I vill kill him. Take your rapier, Jack. I vill tell you how I vill kill him. Oh, alas sir, I cannot fence. Villainy. Take your rapier. Forbear: here's company. O, 'bless thee, bully-doctor. 'Save you Master Doctor Caius. Now good master doctor. 'Give you good morrow, sir. Vat be all you one, two, tree, four, come for? To see thee fight, to see thee foin, to see thee here, to see thee there, to see thee pass thy puncto, thy stock, thy reverse, o -- Is he dead bully-stale? Is he dead? By gar, he is de coward jack-priest of de vorld. He has not show his face. I pray you bear witness, that me have stay some six or seven, two, tree hours for him, and he is no come. He is the wiser man master doctor, he is a curer of souls, and you a curer of bodies. Now, if you should fight, you go against the hair of your professions. Is it not true, Master Page? Master Shallow, you have yourself been a great fighter, though now a man of peace. Bodikins Master Page, though I now be old, and of the peace, if I see a sword out, my finger itches to make one. Though we are justices, and doctors, and churchmen, Master Page, we have some salt of our youth in us, we are the sons of women, Master Page. O. I got him, sir. It’s the salts. The salts, the salts. 'Tis true, Master Shallow. It should be found so, Master Page. Master Doctor Caius, I am come to fetch you home: I am sworn of the peace. You must go along with me, master doctor. O pardon, guest-justice. Ah, Monsieur Mock-water. Mock-vater? Vat is dat? Ah, mock-water, in our English tongue, is valour, bully. By gar, then I have as much mockvater as de Englishman. Scurvy jack-dog priest. By gar, me vill -- cut his ears. He will clapper-claw thee tightly, bully. Clapper-de-claw? Vat is dat? That is, he will make thee amends. By gar, me do look he shall clapper-de-claw me, for by gar me vill have it. And I will provoke him to't, or let him wag. Me tank you for dat. And moreover, bully, but first, master guest, and Master Page, and eke Cavaliero Slender. Go you through the town to Frogmore. Sir Hugh is there, is he? He is there. See what humour he is in, and I will bring the doctor about by the fields. Will it do well? We will do it. Adieu, good master doctor. By gar, me vill kill de priest, for he speak for a jack-an-ape to Anne Pa-- Let him die. Sheathe thy impatience. Throw cold water on thy choler. Go about the fields with me through Frogmore. I will bring thee where Mistress Anne Page is and thou shalt woo her. By gar, me dank you vor dat. By gar I love you, and -- I will procure-a you de good guest. De earl. De knight. De lords. De gentlemen. My patients. So the which, I will be thy adversary toward Anne Page: said I well? By gar, 'tis good. Vell said. Let us wag then. What, come after my heels, Rugby. I pray you now, which way have you looked for Master Caius, that calls himself doctor of physic? Marry sir, the Petty-ward, the Park-ward, every way, old Windsor way, and every way but the town-way. I most fehemently desire you, you will also look that way. I will, sir. 'Pless my soul: how full of cholers I am, and trempling of mind. I shall be glad if he have deceived me. How melancholies I am? I will knog his urinals about his knave's costard, when I have good opportunities for the 'ork. 'Pless my soul. Mi glywaf dyner lais, Yn galw arnaf fi, I ddod a golchi 'meiau gyd, Yn afon Calfari Arglwydd, dyma fi Ar dy alwad di. 'Mercy on me, I have a great dispositions to cry. Golch fi'n burlan yn y gwaed -- Yonder he is coming, this way, Sir Hugh. He's welcome. Heaven prosper the right. What weapons is he? No weapons, sir, but here comes Master Shallow, another gentleman, through Frogmore, over the stile, this way. Pray you give me my gown, or else keep it in your arms. How now, Master parson? Good morrow good Sir Hugh. What, keep a gamester from the dice, and a good student from his book, and it is wonderful. Sweet Anne Page. 'Save you, good Sir Hugh. 'Pless you from his mercy sake. What? The sword, and the word? Do you study them both, Master parson? We are come to you, to do a good office, Master parson. Fery well. What is it? Yonder is a most reverend gentleman, who, belike, having received wrong by some person, is at most odds with his own gravity and patience, that ever you saw. I never heard a man of his place, gravity, and learning, so wide of his own respect. What is he? I think you know him: Master Doctor Caius, the renowned French physician. Got’s-will, and his passion, of my heart. I had as lief you would tell me of a mess of porridge. Why? He is a knave, a cowardly knave, as you would desires to be acquainted withal. I warrant you, he's the man should fight with him. Sweet Anne Page! It appears so by his weapons. Here comes Doctor Caius. Keep them asunder. Nay good Master parson, keep in your weapon. So do you, good master doctor. Disarm them, and let them question. Let them keep their limbs whole, and hack our English. I pray you let-a me speak a word with your ear. Vherefore vill you not meet-a me? I pray you use your patience in good time. By gar, you are de coward. De jack dog: de John ape. Pray you let us not be laughing-stocks to other men's humours. I desire you in friendship. And I will one way or other make you amends. I will knog your urinal about your knave's cogscomb. Jack Rugby, mine host de Jarteer: have I not stay for him, to kill him? Have I not, in de place I did appoint? As I am a Christians soul, now look you. This is the place appointed, I'll be judgment by mine host of the Garter. Peace, I say, Gallia and Gaul, French and Welsh, soul-curer, and body-curer. Ay, dat is very good, excellent. Peace, I say. Hear thine host of the Garter. Am I politic? Am I subtle? Am I a Machiavel? Shall I lose my doctor? No. Cause he gives me the potions and the motions. Now. Shall I lose my parson? My priest? My Sir Hugh? No, cause he gives me the proverbs, and the no-verbs. Now, give me thy hand, terrestrial so. Give me thy hand, celestial, so. Boys of art -- I -- have deceived you both. I have directed you to wrong places. Your hearts are mighty, your skins are whole, and let burned sack be the issue. Come, lay their swords to pawn and follow me, lads of peace. Follow, follow, follow. Trust me, a mad host. Follow gentlemen, follow. Do I perceive dat? Have yo make-a de sot of us, ha, ha? This is well, she has made us her vlouting-stog. I desire you that we may be friends. And let us knog our prains together to be revenge on this same scall-scurvy-cogging-companion the host of the Garter. By gar, with all my heart. She had promise to bring me where is Anne Page: by gar, she has deceived me too. Well, I will smite her noodles. Pray you follow. Nay keep your way little gallant, you were wont to be a follower, but now you are a leader. Whether had you rather lead mine eyes, or eye your master's heels? I would rather, forsooth, go before you like a man, than follow him like a dwarf. Oh you are a flattering boy. Now I see you'll be a courtier. Well met Mistress Page, whither go you? Oh, truly sir, to see your wife, is she at home? Ay, and as idle as she may hang together for want of company. I think if your husbands were dead, you two would marry. Be sure of that, two other husbands. Where had you this pretty weathercock? I, I -- I cannot tell what the dickens his name is my husband had him of, what do you call your knight's name sirrah? Sir John Falstaff. Sir John Falstaff? He, he, I can never hit on's name. Is your wife at home indeed? Indeed, she is. By your leave sir, I am sick till I see her. Has Page any brains? Hath he any eyes? Hath he any thinking? Sure they sleep, he hath no use of them. He pieces out his wife's inclination: he gives her folly motion and advantage. And now she's going to my wife, and Falstaff's boy with her. A man may hear this shower sing in the wind -- And Falstaff's boy with her. Good plots, they are laid, and our revolted wives share damnation together. Well. I will take him, then torture my wife, pluck the borrowed veil of modesty from the so-seeming Mistress Page, divulge Page himself for a secure and wilful Acteon, and to these violent proceedings all my neighbours shall cry aim. The clock gives me my cue, and my assurance bids me search, there I shall find Falstaff. I shall be rather praised for this, than mocked, for it is as positive, as the earth is firm, that Falstaff is there. I will go. Well met, Master Ford. Trust me, a good knot. I have good cheer at home, and I pray you all go with me. I must excuse myself, Master Ford. And so must I sir. We have appointed to dine with Mistress Anne, and I would not break with her for more money than I could speak of. We have lingered about a match between Anne Page, and my cousin Slender, and this day we shall have our answer. I hope I have your good will Father. You have Master Slender, I stand wholly for you, but my wife, master doctor, is for you altogether. Ay by gar, and de maid is love-a me: my nursh-a Quickly tell me so mush. Oh, what say you to young Master Fenton? He capers, he dances, he has eyes of youth. He writes verses, he speaks holiday. He smells April and May, he will carry’t. Not by my consent, I promise you. The gentleman is of no having. He is of too high a region, he knows too much. No. He shall not knit a knot in his fortunes, with the finger of my substance. If he take her -- let him take her simply. The wealth I have waits on my consent, and my consent goes not that way. I beseech you heartily, some of you go home with me to dinner. Besides your cheer, you shall have sport. I will show you a monster. Master doctor, you shall go, so shall you Master Page, and you Sir Hugh. Well, fare you well. We shall have the freer wooing at Master Page's. Go home John Rugby. I come anon. Farewell my hearts, I will to my honest knight Falstaff, and drink canary with him. I think I shall drink in pipe-wine first with him. I'll make him dance. Will you go, gentles? Have with you, to see this monster. What John, what Robert. Quickly. Quickly. Is the buck-basket -- I warrant. What, Robin, I say. Come, come, come. Here, set it down. If your men the charge, we must be briefe. Marry, as I told you before, John and Robert, be ready here hard-by, and when I suddenly call you, come forth, and, without any pause, or staggering, take up this basket. 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. You will do it? I ha' told them over and over, they lack no direction. Be gone, and come when you are called. Here comes little Robin. How now my eyas-musket, what news with you? My master Sir John is come in at your back door, Mistress Ford, and requests your company. You little Jack-a-Lent, have you been true to us? Ay, I'll be sworn: he 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. Thou'rt a good boy. I'll go hide me. Do so. Go tell thy master, I am alone. Mistress Page, remember you your cue. I warrant thee. If I do not act it, hiss me. Go to then: we'll use this gross-watery pumpkin. We'll teach him to know turtles from jays. Have I caught thee, my heavenly jewel? Why now let me die, for I have -- That’s not right. For I have lived long enough. This is the period of my ambition. Oh this blessed hour. Oh, sweet Sir John! 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. I your lady Sir John? Alas, I should be a pitiful lady. Thou art a tyrant to say so. Thou wouldst make an -- Ah. Thou wouldst make an absolute courtier. I see what thou wert if Fortune thy foe, were not Nature thy friend. Come. Thou canst not hide it. Oh. Believe me, there's no such thing in me. What made me love thee? Let that persuade thee. There is something extraordinary in thee. Come, I cannot cog, and say thou art this and that, like a-many of these lisping hawthorn-buds, that come like women in men's apparel. I cannot. But I love thee, none but thee, and thou deserv'st it. Do not betray me sir, I fear you love Mistress Page. Thou mightst as well say, I love to walk by the counter-gate. Well -- heaven knows how I love you, and you shall one day find it. Keep in that mind, and I'll deserve it. Mistress Ford, Mistress Ford. Mistress Page is at the door, sweating, and blowing, and looking wildly, and would needs speak with you presently. She shall not see me. I will ensconce me behind the elbow. Arras. I don’t know my arras from my elbow. What's the matter? How now? Oh Mistress Ford what have you done? You're overthrown, you're shamed, you're undone forever. What's the matter, good Mistress Page? Oh well-a-day, Mistress Ford, having an honest man to your husband, to give him such cause of suspicion. What cause of suspicion? What cause of suspicion? Out upon you. How am I mistook in you! Why, alas, what's the matter? Your husband's coming hither, woman, with all the officers in 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. 'Tis not so, I hope. 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 your self 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 forever. 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. For shame, never stand your husband's here at hand, bethink you of some conveyance. In the house you cannot hide him. Oh, 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 on him, as if it were going to bucking. Oh, but lister, it is whiting time, send him by your two men to Datchet Mead. He's too big to go in there. What shall I do? Let me see't, let me see't, oh let me see’t. I'll in, I'll in. Follow your friend's counsel, I'll in. What Sir John Falstaff? Are these your letters, knight? I love thee, help me away. Let me creep in here. Help to cover your master, boy. Call your men, Mistress Ford. You dissembling knight. What John. Robert, John. Go, take up these clothes here, quickly. Carry them to the laundress in Datchet Mead. Quickly, come. I -- I can’t. I can’t. Yes. I can’t. Yes. Yes. Pray you. '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? Whither bear you this? To the Landresse forsooth? Why, what have you to do whither they bear it? You were best meddle with buck-washing. Buck? I would I could wash myself of the buck. Buck, buck, buck, buck, buck. Ay buck. I warrant you buck, and of the season too, it shall appear. Gentlemen. Here. Here be my keys, ascend my chambers, search, seek, find out. I'll warrant we'll unkennel the fox. Good Master Ford, be contented. You wrong yourself too much. True Master Page. Up gentlemen, you shall see sport anon: follow me gentlemen. This is fery fantastical humours and jealousies. By gar, 'tis no' the fashion of France. It is not jealous in France. Nay follow him gentlemen, see the issue of his search. Is there not a double excellency in this? I know not which pleases me better, that my husband is deceived, or Sir John. What a taking was he in, when your husband asked who was in the basket? I am half afraid he will have need of washing. So throwing him into the water, will do him a benefit. Hang him dishonest rascal. I would all of the same strain, were in the same distress. I think my husband hath some special suspicion of Falstaff's being here. I never saw him so gross in his jealousy till now. 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. 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? We will do it: let him be sent for tomorrow eight o'clock to have amends. I cannot find him: maybe the knave bragged of that he could not compass. Heard you that? You use me well, Master Ford? Do you? Ay, I do so. Heaven make you better than your thoughts. Amen. You do yourself mighty wrong, Master Ford. Ay, ay: I must bear it. If there be anypody in the house, and in the chambers, and in the coffers, and in the presses, heaven forgive my sins at the day of judgment. By gar, nor I too. There is nobodies. 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. 'Tis my fault Master Page, I suffer for it. Your wife is as honest a ‘omans, as I would desires in five thousand, and five hundred. By gar, I see 'tis an honest woman. But well -- I promised you all a dinner. Come, come. I 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. Let's go in gentlemen, but, trust me, we'll mock him. I do invite you tomorrow morning to my house to breakfast. After we'll a-birding together, I have a fine hawk for the bush. Shall it be so? Anything. If there is one, I shall make two in the company. If there be one, or two, I shall make-a the turd. Will you go, Mistress Page. I see I cannot get thy father's love. Therefore no more turn me to him, sweet Nan. Alas, how then? Why thou must be thy self. He doth object, I am too great of birth, And that, my state being galled with my expense, 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 I should love thee, but as a property. Well maybe he tells you true. No, heaven so speed me in my time to come. Albeit I will confess, thy father's wealth was the first motive that I wooed thee. Yet, wooing thee, I found thee of more value than stamps in gold, or sums in sealèd bags. And 'tis the very riches of thy self, that now I aim at. Gentle, Master Fenton. Yet seek my father's love, still seek it, sir, if opportunity and humblest suit cannot attain it, why then -- Hark you hither. Oh, break their talk Mistress Quickly, my kinsman shall speak for himself. Be not dismayed. No, she shall not dismay me: I care not for that, but that I am afeared. Hark ye, Master Slender would speak a word with you. Yea, I come to him. Oh this is my father's choice. Oh what a world of vile ill-favoured faults looks handsome in three hundred pounds a-year? And how does good Master Fenton? Pray you a word with you. She's coming, to her coz. Oh boy, thou hadst a father. I had a father Mistress Anne, my uncle can tell you good jests of him. Oh, pray you uncle. Tell Mistress Anne the jest how my father stole two geese out of a pen, good uncle. Oh. Mistress Anne, my cousin loves you. Ay that I do, as well as I love any woman in Gloucestershire. Oh. He will maintain you like a gentlewoman. He will make you a hundred and fifty pounds jointure. Good Master Shallow, let him woo for himself. I thank you for it: I thank you for that good comfort: to her coz, I'll leave you. Now, Master Slender. Now, good Mistress Anne. What is your will? 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 mean Master Slender what would you with me? Truly, for mine own part, I would little or nothing with you. Your father and my uncle hath 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. Now Master Slender, love him, daughter Anne. 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 disposed of. Nay Master Page, be not impatient. Good Master Fenton, come not to my child. She is no match for you. Sir, will you hear me? No, good Master Fenton. Come Master Shallow: come son Slender, in. Knowing my mind, you wrong me Master Fenton. Speak to Mistress Page. Good Mistress Page -- for that I love your daughter 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. Good mother, do not marry me to yond fool. I mean it not, I seek you a better husband. That's my master, master doctor. Alas, I had rather be set quick i'th earth, and bowled to death with turnips. Come, trouble not your self, good Master Fenton, I will not be your friend, nor enemy. My daughter will I question how she loves you, and as I find her, so am I affected. Till then, farewell sir, she must needs go in, her father will be angry. Farewell, gentle mistress: farewell -- 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. I thank thee: and I pray thee once to night. Give my sweet Nan this ring: there's for thy pains. Now heaven send thee good fortune. 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. 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. Bardolph, I say. Here sir. Go, fetch me a quart of sack. And two paracetamol. Have I lived to be carried in a basket? Like a barrow of butchers offal and to be thrown in the Thames? 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. And you may know by my size that I have a kind of alacrity in sinking. 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. Here's Mistress Quickly, sir, to speak with you. Come, let me pour in some sack -- Let me pour in some sack to the Thames water. For my belly’s as cold as if I had swollowed snowballs for pills. Call her in. Come in, woman. Give your worship good morrow. How now? Marry sir, I come to your worship from Mistress Ford. Mistress Ford? I have had Ford enough: I was thrown into the ford. I have my belly full of ford. Alas the day, good-heart, that was not her fault. She does so take upon her men, they mistook their erection. So did I mine. To build upon a foolish woman's promise. Well, she laments sir for it, that it would yearn your heart to see it. Her husband goes this morning a-birding. And 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. 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. I will tell her. Do so. Between nine and ten sayst thou? Eight and nine, sir. Well, be gone. I will not miss her. Peace be with you, sir. Oh, yea. Yea. I marvel I hear not of Master Brook. He sent me word to stay within. I like his money well. Oh, here he comes. Bless you, sir. Now, Master Brook, you come to know what hath passed between me, and Ford's wife. That indeed Sir John, is my business. Master Brook, I will not lie to you, I was at her house the hour she appointed me. And sped you, sir? Very ill-favouredly, Master Brook. How so sir, did she change her determination? 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. What? While -- While you were there? While I was there. Did he search for you, and could not find you? 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. Aaaa. A buck-basket? Yes. Aaaa buck-basket. Rammed me in with foul shirts and smocks, socks, foul stockings, greasy napkins, that, Master Brook, there was the rankest compound of villainous smell, that ever offended nostril. And how long lay you there? Nay, you shall hear, Master Brook, what I suffered, to bring this woman to evil, for your good. Being thus crammed in the basket, a couple of Ford's knaves were called forth by their Mistress, to carry me in the name of foul clothes to Datchet Lane. They took me on their shoulders. Eventually -- 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. It was a miracle to scape suffocation. And in the height of this bath, when I was more then half stewed in grease to be thrown into the Thames, and cooled, glowing-hot, in that surge like a horseshoe. Think of that. Hissing hot. Think of that. Oh, Master Brook. 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? 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. 'Twixt eight and nine is the hour, Master Brook. 'Tis past eight already sir. Is it? 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. Hm? 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 my self 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 halfpenny purse, nor into a pepperbox. 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 one mad, let the proverb go with me, I'll be horn-mad. Is he at Master Ford's already think'st thou? 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. I'll be with her by and by. Mistress Ford. Mistress Ford. Your sorrow hath eaten up my sufferance. I see you are obsequious in your love. I feel strangely drawn to this area. But are you sure of your husband now? He's a birding sweet Sir John. Oh my god. What ho, gossip Ford. Step into th'chamber, Sir John. How now, sweetheart, whose at home besides yourself? Why, none but mine own people. Indeed? No certainly: speak louder. Truly, I am so glad you have nobody here. Why? Why woman, your husband is in his old lunes again. Oh God. He so takes on yonder with my husband, so rails against all married mankind, so curses all Eve's daughters, that any madness I ever yet beheld seemed but tameness, civility, and patience to this his distemper he is in now. Oh -- But I am glad the fat knight is not here. Why, does he talk of him? 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. I am glad the knight is not here. Now he shall see his own foolery. How near is he, Mistress Page? Hard by, at street end, he will be here anon. I am undone, the knight is here. 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. Which way should he go? How should I bestow him? Shall I put him into the basket again? No. I'll come no more i' th' basket. May I not go out ere he come? 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? What shall I do? I'll -- I’ll creep up into your chimney. There they always use to discharge their birding-pieces. There is no hiding you in the house. I'll go out then. If you go out in your own semblance, you die, Sir John -- unless you go out disguised. How might we disguise him? 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. Good hearts, devise something: any extremity, rather than a mischief. My maid's aunt the fat woman of Brentford, has a gown above. On my word, it will serve him. She's as big as he is. Run up, Sir John. Go, go, sweet Sir John. And Mistress Page and I will look some linen for your head. Quick, quick. We'll come dress you straight, put on the gown the while. I would my husband would meet him in this shape. He cannot abide the old woman of Brentford. He swears she's a witch, forbad her my house, and hath threatened to beat her. Heaven guide him to thy husband's cudgel, and the devil guide his cudgel afterwards. But is my husband coming? Ay in good sadness is he, and talks of the basket too, howsoever he hath had intelligence. We'll try that. I'll appoint my men to carry the basket again, to meet him at the door with it, as they did last time. Nay, but he'll be here presently: let's go dress him like the witch of Brentford. I'll first direct my men, what they shall do with the basket: go up. I'll bring linen for him straight. 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. Go, sirs. Take up the basket again. Your master is hard at door. If he bid you set it down, obey him: quickly, dispatch. Come, come, take it up. Pray heaven it be not full of knight again. Ay. But if it prove true, Master Page, have you any way then to unfool me again. Set down the basket, villains. Oh, you panderly rascals. There's a knot: 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. Why, this passes Master Ford. You are not to go loose any longer, you must be pinioned. Why, this is lunatics: this is mad, as a mad dog. Indeed Master Ford, this 's not well indeed. So say I too, sir. Come hither, Mistress Ford. 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? Heaven be my witness you do, if you suspect me in any dishonesty. Well said brazen-face, hold it out. Come forth, sirrah. This passes. Are you not ashamed? Oh, let the clothes alone. I shall find you anon. 'Tis unreasonable, will you take up your wife's clothes? Come, away. Empty the basket, I say. Why man, why? Master Page. As I am a 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. If you find a man there, he shall die a flea's death. Here's no man. By my fidelity, this is not well, Master Ford: this wrongs you. Master Ford, you must pray, and not follow the imaginations of your own heart. This is jealousies. Well, he's not here, I seek for. No, nor nowhere else, but in your brain. Help to search my house this one time. If I find not what I seek, let me forever be your table-sport. Satisfy me once more. No. Once more, search with me. No. Ho, Mistress Page. Come you and the old woman down: my husband will come into the chamber. Old woman? What old woman's that? Why it is my maid's aunt of Brentford. A witch. A witch. A quean. An old cozening quean. Have I not forbid her my house. Oh, 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. Come down you witch, you hag you, come down, I say. Oh, you’re a sagittarius. He's got a gun. He's got a gun. He's got a gun. He's got a gun. I'll conjure you, I'll fortune-tell you. Are you not ashamed? I think you have killed the poor woman. Hang her witch. By yea, and no, I think the 'oman is a witch indeed. I like not when a 'om an has a great peard. 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. Oh, let's obey his humour a little further: come gentlemen. Trust me, he beat him most pitifully. Nay. By th'mass that he did not: he beat him most unpitifully, methought. The spirit of wantonness is sure scared out of him. He will never, I think, in the way of waste attempt us again. Shall we tell our husbands how we have served him? 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. I'll warrant they'll have him publicly shamed. Methinks there would be no period to the jest, should he not be publicly shamed. Come, to the forge with it, then shape it: I would not have things cool. 'Tis one of the best discretions of a 'oman as ever I did look upon. And did he send you both these letters at an instant? Within a quarter of an hour. 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, in him that was of late an heretic, as firm as faith. 'Tis well. 'Tis well, no more. Be not as extreme in submission, as in offence, but let our plot go forward. Let our wives appoint a meeting with this old fat fellow, where we may take him, and disgrace him for it. There is no better way than that they spoke of. How? To send him word they'll meet him in the park at midnight? Fie, fie, he'll never come. Devise but how you'll use him when he comes, and let us two devise to bring him thither. There is an old tale goes, that Herne the hunter, 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 trees, and takes the cattle, and makes milch-kine yield blood and shakes a chain in a most hideous and dreadful manner. But what of this? Marry this is our device, that Falstaff at that oak shall meet with us, disguised like Herne, with huge horns on his head. What shall be done with him? What is your plot? That likewise have we thought upon, and thus, Nan Page, and some more, of the town, we'll dress like urchins, ouphes, and fairies, green and white. As Falstaff, she, and I, are newly met, let them from forth a sawpit rush at once with some diffused song. Upon their sight 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, in their so sacred paths, he dares to tread in shape profane. And till he tell the truth, let the supposed fairies pinch him, sound, and -- burn him with their tapers. The truth being known, we'll all present our selves, dis-horn the spirit, and mock him home to Windsor. The fairies must be practised well to this, or they'll never do't. I will teach them their behaviours. And I will be like a jackanapes also, to burn the knight with my taber. That will be excellent, I'll go buy them vizards. My Nan shall be the queen of all the fairies, finely attired in a robe of white. That silk will I go buy. And in that time shall Master Slender steal my Nan away, and marry her at Eton. Go, send for Falstaff straight. Nay. I'll to him again in name of Brook. He'll tell me all his purpose: sure he'll come. Fear not you that: go get us properties and tricking for our fairies. Let us about it. Go, Mistress Ford. Send quickly to Sir John, to know his mind. 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 he, my husband, best of all affects. The doctor is well-moneyed, and his friends potent at court. He, none but he shall have her, though twenty thousand worthier come to crave her. There is an old woman, a fat woman, gone up into his chamber. Ha? A fat woman? Well then the knight may be robbed. I will call: bully knight, bully Sir John. Speak from thy lungs military. Art thou there? It is thine host. How now, mine 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. There was mine host, an old fat woman even now with me, but he's gone. I’ve gone, she’s gone. She's gone. Pray you sir, was't not the wise woman of Brentford? Ah, Sir John. Was there a wise woman with thee? 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. Ah. If it should come to the ear of the court, how I have been transformed, and how my transformation hath been washed, and cudgelled, -- ah -- they would melt me out of my fat drop by drop, and liquor fishermen's boots with me. Now? Whence come you? From the two parties, forsooth. 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 villainous -- of man's disposition -- is able to bear. 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. What tell'st thou me of black, and blue? I was beaten my self into all the colours of the rainbow. Red, yellow, pink -- and purple and blue. And I was like to be apprehended for the witch of Brentford, but that my admirable dexterity of wit, my counterfeiting the action of an old woman delivered me. 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. Come up into my chamber. Good hearts, what ado here is to bring you together? Master Fenton, talk not to me. Yet hear me speak. Assist me in my purpose, and, as I am a gentleman, I'll give thee a hundred pound in gold. Yea, well, I will hear thee, Master Fenton. And I will, at the least, keep your counsel. From time to time, I have acquainted you with the dear love I bear to fair Anne Page. Yea. Who, mutually, hath answered my affection, so far forth, as herself might be her chooser even to my wish. I have a letter from her, 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. Fat Falstaff hath a great scene. The image of the a jest, I'll show you here at large, hark good mine host. Tonight at Herne's Oak, just 'twixt twelve and one, must my sweet Nan present the fairy-queen. The purpose why, is here. In which disguise her father hath commanded her to slip away with Slender, and with him, at Eton immediately to marry. She hath consented. Now then, her mother, ever strong against that match and firm for Doctor Caius, hath appointed 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 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 to take her by the hand, and bid her go, she shall go with him. Her mother hath intended that quaint in green, she shall be loose enrobed, with ribbons-pendant, flaring 'bout her head. And when the doctor spies his vantage ripe, to pinch her by the hand, and on that token, the maid hath given consent to go with him. Which means she to deceive? Father, or mother. Both, my good host, to go along with me. And here it rests, that you'll procure the vicar to stay for me at church, 'twixt twelve, and one, and in the lawful name of marrying, to give our hearts united ceremony. Well. Husband your device. I'll to the vicar. Bring you the maid, you shall not lack a priest. So shall I evermore be bound to thee. Besides, I'll make a present recompense. Prithee, no more prattling. I'll go. 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. I'll provide you a chain, and I'll do what I can to get you a pair of horns. Away I say, time wears, hold up your head and mince. How now, Master Brook? Master Brook, the matter will be known tonight, or never. Be you in the Park about midnight, at Herne's Oak, and you shall see wonders. Went you not to her this morning sir, as you told me you had appointed? 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 man, Master Brook, I fear not Goliath with a weaver's beam, because I know also, life is a shuttle. I am in haste. Follow me. I’ll tell you strange things of this knave Ford, on whom tonight I will be revenged, and I will deliver his wife into your hand. Follow. Strange things in hand, Master Brook. Trib, trib, fairies: come. And remember your parts. Be pold, I pray you, and when I give the watch'ords, do as I pid you. Come, come, trib, trib. Come, come: we'll couch i'th' Castle ditch, till we see the light of our fairies. Now, remember son Slender, my daughter shall be dressed in white-- Ay forsooth, I have spoke with her, and we have a nay-word, how to know one another. I come to her in white, and cry ‘mum, she cries ‘budget,’ and by that we know one another. That's good too: but what needs either your ‘mum’ or her ‘budget’? The white will decipher her well enough. Ah, it hath struck ten o'clock. Oh, the night is dark. Light and spirits will become it well. Heaven prosper our sport. No man means evil but the devil, and we shall know him by his horns. Let's away. Follow me. Master Doctor, my daughter is in green. Grrreen? Green. Green. When you see your time, take her by the hand, away with her to the deanery, and dispatch it quickly. I know vat I have to do. Vat. It is French for adieu. Fare thee well sir. My husband will not rejoice so much at the abuse of Falstaff, as he will chafe at the doctor's marrying my daughter. But 'tis no matter. Better a little chiding, than a great deal of heartbreak. Where is Nan now? And her troop of fairies? And the Welsh devil Hugh? They are all couched hard by Herne's Oak, and at the very instant of Falstaff's and our meeting, they will at once display themselves to the night. That cannot choose but amaze him. If he be not amazed he will be mocked. If he be amazed, he will every way be mocked. We'll betray him finely. Against such lewdsters, and their lechery, those that betray them, do no treachery. The hour draws on: to the Oak, to the Oak. The Windsor bell hath struck twelve. The minute draws on, now. The hot-blooded-gods assist me. O, powerful Love, that in some respects makes a beast a man, in some other, a man a beast. When gods have hot backs, what shall poor men do? For me, I am here a Windsor stag, and the fattest, I think, i'th' forest. Second fattest. Send me a cool rut-time Jove, or who can blame me to piss my tallow? Who comes here? My doe? A deer? A female deer? Sir John? Art thou there, my deer? My male deer? My doe, with the black scut? Let the sky rain potatoes. Let it thunder, let there come a tempest of provocation, I will shelter me here. Mistress Page is come with me, sweetheart. Divide me -- like a bribed buck, each a haunch. I will keep my sides to my self, my shoulders for the fellow of this walk, and my horns, I bequeath your husbands. Am I a woodman, ha? Speak I like Herne the hunter? Why, now -- oh. Is Cupid a child of conscience, he makes restitution. As I am a true spirit, welcome. Alas, what noise? Heaven forgive our sins. Away. Away. What should this be now? I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the oil that's in me should set hell on fire, he would never else cross me thus. Fairies black, grey, green, and white, you moon-shine revellers, and shades of night. You orphan heirs of fixed destiny, attend your office, and your quality. They are fairies. He that speaks to them shall die, I'll wink, and couch. No man their works must eye. Raise up the organs of his fantasy. Sleep he as sound as careless infancy, but those as sleep, and think not on their sins. Pinch them. Arms. Legs. Shoulders. Backs sides, and shins. But stay. I smell a man of middle earth. Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy. With trial-fire touch me his finger-end. If he be chaste, the flame will back descend, and turn him to no pain, but if he start, it is the flesh of a corrupted heart. I ain't finished. A trail, come. Fie on sinful fantasy. Fie on lust and luxury! Lust is but a bloody fire, kindled with unchaste desire, fed in heart whose flames aspire, as thoughts do blow them, higher and higher. Pinch him, fairies, mutually. Pinch him for his villainy. Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about, till candles, and star-light, and moon-shine be out. Pinch him, fairies, mutually. Pinch him for his villainy. Pinch him, burn him, and turn him about, till candles, and star-light, and moon shine be out. Pinch him, fairies, mutually. Pinch him for his villainy. Pinch him, burn him, and turn him about. I see. Now, good Sir John, how like you Windsor wives? See you these, husband? Do not these fair yokes become the forest better than the town? Now, sir, who's a cuckold now? Master Brook. Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldly knave. Here are his horns. And he hath enjoyed nothing of Ford's, but his buck-basket, his cudgel, and twenty pounds of money, which must be paid to Master Brook. Sir John, we have had ill luck. We could never meet. I will never take you for my love again, but I will always count you my deer. I do begin to perceive that I am made a fool. Ay, and an ox too. And these are not fairies. I was three or four times in the thought they were not fairies. And yet the guiltiness of my mind, the sudden surprise of my powers, drove the grossness of the foppery into a received belief, in despite of the teeth of all rhyme and reason, that they were fairies. See now how wit may be made a Jack-a-Lent, when 'tis upon ill employment. Sir John Falstaff, serve Got, and leave your desires. And Fairies will not pinse you. Well said, Fairy Hugh. And leave you your jealousies too, I pray you. I will never mistrust my wife again, till thou art able to woo her in good English. Why, Sir John -- do you think though we would have thrust virtue out of our hearts by the head and shoulders, and have given ourselves without scruple to hell, that ever the devil could have made you our delight? A puffed man? Old, cold, withered, and of intolerable entrails? And one that is as slanderous as Satan? And as poor as Job? And as wicked as his wife? And given to fornications, and to taverns, and sack, and wine, and to drinkings, and swearings, and starings? Pribbles and prabbles? I am here, you know? Well. I am your theme. You have the start of me. I am dejected. I am not able to answer the Welsh flannel. Ignorance itself is a plummet o'er me, use me, use me as you will. O, yet be cheerful, knight. Thou shalt eat a posset tonight at my house, where I will desire thee to laugh at my wife, that now laughs at thee. Tell her Master Slender hath married her daughter. Doctors doubt that. If Anne Page be my daughter, she is, by this, Doctor Caius's wife. Whoa ho, ho, Father Page. How now son, have you dispatched? Dispatched? I'll make the best in Gloucestershire know on't, would I were hanged la, else. Of what son? I came yonder at Eton to marry Mistress Anne Page, and she's a great lubberly boy. If it had not been i'th'church, I would have swinged him, or he should have swinged me. Upon my life then, you took the wrong -- What need you tell me that? I think so, when I took a boy for a girl. If I had been married to him, for all he was in woman's apparel, I would not have had him. Why this is your own folly. Did not I tell you how you should know my daughter by her garments? I went to her in white, and cried ‘mum,’ and she cried -- 'Budget'. As Anne and I had appointed, and yet it was not Anne, but a post-master's boy. Good George, be not angry. I knew of your purpose. Turned my daughter into green, and indeed she is now with the doctor at the deanery, and there married. Ver is Mistress Page? By gar, I am cozened. I ha' married a boy. Un garçon, un pesant, by gar, a boy, by gar, a boy, by gar, a boy. It is not Anne Page, by gar, I am cozened. Why? Did you take her in green? Ay by gar, and 'tis a boy. By gar, I'll raise all Windsor. This is strange. Who hath got the right Anne? Oh, my heart misgives me, here comes Master Fenton. How now, Master Fenton? Pardon, good father, good my mother, pardon. How how, mistress: how chance you went not with Master Slender? Why went you not with master doctor, maid? You do amaze me. Hear the truth of it. You would have married me most shamefully, where there was no proportion held in love. The truth is: He and I, long since contracted, are now so sure that nothing can dissolve us. Th'offence is holy, that she hath committed. And this deceit loses the name of craft, of disobedience, or unduteous title, since therein she doth evitate and shun a thousand irreligious cursed hours which forced marriage would have brought upon her. Stand not amaz'd. Here is no remedy. In love, the heavens themselves do guide the state. Money buys lands. And wives are sold by fate. I am glad, though you have ta'en a special stand to strike at me, that your arrow hath glanced. Ah, ah, ah, ah. Well -- What remedy? Fenton. Fenton. Heaven bring thee joy. What cannot be eschewd must be embraced. When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer are chased. Well, I will muse no further. Master Fenton -- heaven give you many, many merry days. Good husband -- let us every one go home, and laugh this sport o'er by a country fire. Sir John and all. Let it be so, Sir John. To Master Brook, you yet shall hold your word, for he, tonight, shall lie with Mistress Ford.