Fal. Have you hands? Ford. Never. receiv'd no promife of fatisfaction at her Fal. Have you importun'd her to fuch a purpose? Fal. Of what quality was your love then? Ford. Like a fair houfe built on another man's ground; fo that I have loft my edifice by miftaking the place where I erected it. Fal. To what purpose have you unfolded this to me? Ford. When I have told you that, I have told you all, Some fay, that tho' fhe appear honeft to me, yet in other places the enlargeth her mirth fo far, that there is fhrewd conftruction made of her. Now, Sir John, here is the heart of my purpofe: You are a gentleman of excellent breeding, admirable difcourfe, of great admittance, authentick in your place and perfon, generally allow'd for your many war-like, court-like, and learned preparations. Fal. O Sir! Ford. Believe it, for you know it; there is mony, fpend it, fpend it; fpend more, spend all I have, only give me fo much of your time in exchange of it as to lay an amiable fiege to the honefty of this Ford's wife; ufe your art of wooing, win her to confent to you; if any man may, you may as foon as any. Fal. Would it apply well to the vehemence of your affection, that I fhould win what you would enjoy? methinks you prefcribe to your felf very prepofteroufly. Ford. O, understand my drift; fhe dwells fo fecurely on the excellency of her honour, that the folly of my foul dares not prefent it felf; fhe is too bright to be look'd against. Now could I come to her with any detection in my hand, my defires had inftance 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 defences, which now are too ftrongly embattel'd against me. What fay you to't, Sir John? Fal. Mafter Brook, I will firft make bold with your mony; next, give me your hand; and last, as I am a gentleman, you fhall, if you will, enjoy Ford's wife. Ford. O good Sir! Fa'. I fay, you shall. Ford. Want no mony, Sir John, you fhall want none. Fal. Want no miftrefs Ford, mafter Brook, you shall want none; I fhall be with her, I may tell you, by her own appointment. Even as you came in to me, her affiftant, or go-between, parted from me; I fay, I fhall be with her between ten and eleven; for at that time the jealous rafcally knave, her husband, will be forth; come you to me at night, you fhall know how I fpeed. Ford. I am bleft in your acquaintance: do you know Ford, Sir? Fal. Hang him, poor cuckoldy knave, I know him not: yet I wrong him, to call him poor; they fay the jealous wittolly knave hath maffes of mony, for the which his wife feems to me well-favour'd. I will use her as the key of the cuckold-rogue's coffer; and there's my harvesthome. Ford. I would you knew Ford, Sir, that you might avoid him, if you faw him. Fal. Hang him, mechanical falt-butter rogue; I will ftare him out of his wits; I will awe him with my cudgel; it fhall hang like a meteor o'er the cuckold's horns. Master Brook, thou fhalt know I will predominate over the peasant, and thou fhalt lye with his wife: Come to me foon at night; Ford's a knave, and I will aggravate his ftile: thou, master Brook, fhalt know him for knave and cuckold; come to me foon at night. [Exit. SCEN E X. Ford. What a damn'd Epicurean rascal is this! my heart is ready to crack with impatience. Who fays this is improvident jealoufie? my wife hath fent to him, the hour is fixt, the match is made; would any man have thought this? fee the hell of having a falfe woman; my bed fhall be be abus'd, my coffers ranfack'd, my reputation gnawn at, and I fhall not only receive this villainous wrong, but stand under the adoption of abominable terms, and by him that does me the wrong; terms! names! Amaimon founds well, Lucifer well, Barbafon well, yet they are devils additions, the names of fiends: but cuckold, wittol, cuckold! the devil himself hath not fuch a name. Page is an afs, a fecure ass, he will truft his wife; he will not be jealous: I will rather truft a Fleming with my butter, parfon Hugh the Welchman with my cheese, an Irishman with my Aquavita bottle, or a thief to walk my ambling gelding, than my wife with her felf: then the plots, then the ruminates, then she devises; and what they think in their hearts they may effect, they will break their hearts but they will effect. Heav'n be prais'd for my jealoufie! Eleven o'clock the hour; I will prevent this, detect my wife, be reveng❜d on Falstaff, and laugh at Page: I will about it: better three hours too foon than a minute too late. Fie, fie, fie; cuckold, cuckold, cuckold! [Exit. SCENE XI. Windfor-Park: Enter Caius and Rugby. Caius. J Ack Rugby! Rug. Sir. Caius. Vat is de clock, Jack? Rug. 'Tis past the hour, Sir, that Sir Hugh promis'd to meet. Caius. By gar, he has fave his foul, dat he is no come; he has pray his pible well, dat he is no come: by gar, Jack Rugby, he is dead already, if he be come. Rug. He is wife, Sir; he knew your worship would kill him, if he came. Caius. By gar, de herring is not fo dead as me vill make R 3 him. him. Take your rapier, Jack, I vill tell you how I vill kill him. Rug. Alas, Sir, I cannot fence. Enter Hoft, Shallow, Slender, and Page. Hoft. 'Blefs thee, bully-Doctor. Caius. Vat be all you, one, two, tree, four, come for? Hoft. To fee thee fight, to fee thee foigne, to fee thee traverse, to fee thee here, to fee thee there, to see thee pafs thy puncto, thy ftock, thy reverfe, thy diftance, thy montant. Is he dead, my Ethiopian? Is he dead, my Francifco? ha, bully? what fays my Efculapius? my Galen? my heart of elder? ha? is he dead, bully-ftale? is he dead? Caius. By gar, he is de coward Jack-prieft of de varld; he is not show his face. 8 Hoft. Thou art a 3 'Cardalion, king Urinal, Hector of Greece, my boy. Caius. I pray you bear witnefs dat me have 9 'stay from fix or feven, two tree hours for him, and he is no come. Shal. He is the wifer man, Mr. Doctor; he is a curer of fouls, and you a curer of bodies: if you should fight, you go against the hair of your profeffions: Is it not true, master Page? Page. Mafter Shallow, you have your felf been a great fighter, tho' now a man of peace. Shal. Body-kins, Mr. Page, tho' I now be old, and of peace, if I fee a fword out, my finger itches to make one; tho' we are Juftices, and Doctors, and church-men, Mr. Page, we have fome falt of our youth in us; we are the fons of women, Mr. Page. (a) He means to fay Coeur de lion. & Caftalion, 9 ftay fix or seven, Page. Page. 'Tis true, Mr. Shallow. Shal. It will be found fo, Mr. Page. Mr. Doctor Caius, I am come to fetch you home; I am fworn of the peace; you have fhew'd your felf a wife physician, and Sir Hugh hath fhown himself a wife and patient churchman: you must go with me, Mr. Doctor. Hoft. Pardon, gueft-juftice; water! I Caius. Mock-vater? vat is dat? ah! monfieur mock Hoft. Mock-water, in our English tongue, is valour, bully. Gaius. By gar, den I have as much mock-vater as de Englishman, fcurvy-jack-dog-priest; by gar, me vill cut his ears. Hoft. He will clapper-claw thee tightly, bully. Hoft. That is, he will make thee amends, Caius. By gar, me do look he fhall clapper-de-claw me; for by gar, me vill have it. Hoft. And I will provoke him to't, or let him wag. Hoft. And moreover, bully; but firft, Mr. Gueft, and Mr. Page, and eek Cavaliero Slender, go you through the town to Frogmore. Page. Sir Hugh is there, is he? Hoft. He is there; fee what humour he is in, and I will bring the doctor about the fields: will it do well? Shal. We will do it. All. Adieu, good Mr. Doctor. [Exeunt Page, Shallow and Slender. Caius. By gar me vill kill de prieft; for he fpeak for a jack-an-ape to Anne Page. 2 Hoft. Let him die; but fheath thy impatience; throw cold water on thy choler; go about the fields with me through Frogmore; I will bring thee where miftrefs Anne Page is, at a farm-house a feafting, and thou fhalt woo her, cock o' th' game; faid I well? R 3 Caius, a word, monficur 2 but, firft, fheath 3 try'd game; |