SCENE II.

The Street in Windsor.

Enter Mrs. Page and Robin.

Mrs. Page. 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?

Rob. I had rather, forsooth, go before you like a man, than follow him like a dwarf.

Mrs. Page. O you are a flattering boy; now, I see, you'll be a courtier.

Enter Ford.

Ford. Well met, mistress Page: Whither go you? Mrs. Puge. Truly, sir, to see your wife: Is she at home?

Ford. Ay; and as idle as she may hang together, for want of company: I think, if your husbands were dead, you two would marry.

Mrs. Page. Be sure of that,-two other husbands. Ford. Where had you this pretty weather-cock? Mrs. Page. I cannot tell what the dickens his name is my husband had him of: What do you call your knight's name, sirrah?

Mrs. Page. He, he: I can never hit on's name. There is such a league between my good man and he! Is your wife at home, indeed?

Ford. Indeed, she is.

Mrs. Puge. By your leave, sir;-I am sick, till I see her. [Exeunt Mrs. Page and Robin. Ford. Has Page any brains? hath he any eyes

hath be any thinking? Sure, they sleep; he hath no use of them. Why, this boy will carry a letter twenty miles, as easy as a cannon will shoot point-blank twelve score. 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 toge. ther. 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 Actæon; and to these violent proceedings all my neighbours shall cry aimt. [Clock strikes.] 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.

Enter Page, Shallow, Slender, Host, Sir Hugh Evans, Caius, and Rugby.

Shal. Page, &c. Well met, master Ford. Ford. Trust me, a good knot: I have good cheer at home; and, I pray you, all go with me.

Shal. I must excuse myself, master Ford. Slen. 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'll speak of.

Shal. We have linger'd about a match between Anne Page and my cousin Slender, and this day we shall have our answer.

Slen. I hope, I have your good-will, father Page. Page. You have, master Slender, I stand wholly for you:-but my wife, master doctor, is for you al together.

Caius. Ay, by gar; and de maid is love-a me; my nursh-a Quickly tell me so mush.

* Specious.

VOL. I.

+ Shall encourage.

K

Act III. Host. What say you to young master Fenton? he capers, he dances, he has eyes of youth, he writes verses, he speaks holyday*, he smells April and May: he will carry't, he will carry't; 'tis in his buttons; he will carry't.

Page. Not by my consent, I promise you. The gentleman is of no havingt: he kept company with the wild Prince and Poins; 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.

Ford. 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.

Shal. Well, fare you well:--we shall have the freer wooing at master Page's.

[Exeunt Shallow and Slender. Caius. Go home, John Rugby; I come anon.

[Exit Rugby. Host. Farewell, my hearts: I will to my honest knight Falstaff, and drink canary with him.

[Exit Host. Ford. [Aside.] I think, I shall drink in pipe-wine first with him; I'll make him dance. Will you go, gentles?

All. Have with you, to see this monster.

[Exeunt.

* Out of the common style.

+ Not rich.

SCENE III.

A room in Ford's house.

Enter Mrs. Ford and Mrs. Page.

Mrs. Ford. What, John! what, Robert!
Mrs. Page. Quickly, quickly: is the buck-bask-

et

Mrs. Ford. I warrant:-what, Robin, I say.

Enter Servants with a basket.

Mrs. Page. Come, come, come.
Mrs. Ford. Here, set it down.

Mrs. Page. Give your men the charge; we must be brief.

Mrs. Ford. Marry, as I told you before, Jolin, and Robert, be ready here hard by in the brewhouse; and when I suddenly call you, come forth, and (without any pause or staggering), take this basket on your shoulders: that done, trudge with it in all laste, and carry it among the whitsters* in Datchet Mead, and there empty it in the muddy ditch, close by the Thames' side.

Mrs. Page. You will do it?

Mrs. Ford. I have told them over and over; they lack no direction: be gone, and come when you are called. [Exeunt Servants.

Mrs. Page. Here comes little Robin.

Enter Robin.

Mrs. Ford. How now, my eyas-muskett? what news with you?

Rob. My master, sir John, is come in at your

* Bleachers of linen.

A young small hawk.

back-door, mistress Ford; and requests your company.

Mrs. Page. You little Jack-a-lent*, have you been true to us?

Rob. Ay, I'll be sworn: my master knows not of your being here; and hath threatened to put me into everlasting liberty, if I tell you of it; for, he swears, he'll turn me away.

Mrs. Page. Thou'rt a good boy; this secrecy of thine shall be a tailor to thee, and shall make thee a new doublet and hose.-I'll go hide me.

Mrs. Ford. Do so:-Go tell thy master, I am alone. Mrs. Page, remember you your cue.

me.

[Exit Robin. Mrs. Page. I warrant thee; if I do not act it, hiss [Exit Mrs. Page. Mrs. Ford. Go to then; we'll use this uuwholesome humidity, this gross watry pumpion;-we'll teach him to know turtles from jays.

Enter Falstaff.

Fal. Have I caught thee, my heavenly jewel? Why, now let me die, for I have lived long enough; this is the period of my ambition: O this blessed hour!

Mrs. Ford. O sweet sir John!

Fal. Mistress Ford, I cannot cog, I cannot prate, Mistress Ford. Now shall I sin in my wish: I would thy husband were dead: I'll speak it before the best lord, I would make thee my lady.

Mrs. Ford. I your lady, sir John! alas, I should be a pitiful lady.

Fal. Let the court of France show me such another; I see how thine eyes would emulate the diamond: thou hast the right arched bent of the brow, that becomes the ship tire, the tire-valiant, or any tire of Venetian admittancet.

A puppet thrown at in Lent, like shrove-cocks. + Venetian fashions.