Caius. By gar, me tank you vor dat: by gar, I love you; and I fhall procure 'a you de good gueft; de Earl, de Knight, de Lords, and de Gentlemen, my patients. Hoft. For the which I will be thy adverfary toward Anne Page: faid I well? Caius. By gar, 'tis good; vell faid. Caius. Come at my heels, Jack Rugby. [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE I Frogmore near Windfor. Enter Evans and Simple. EVANS. Pray you now, good mafter Slender's ferving-man, and friend Simple by your name, which way have you look'd for master Caius, that calls himself Doctor of Phyfick? Simp. Marry, Sir, the Pitty-wary, the Park-ward, 4'old Windfor way, and every way but the town way. Eva. I most fehemently defire you, you will alfo look that way. Simp. I will, Sir. Eva. 'Plefs my foul, how full of chollars I am, and trempling of mind! I fhall be glad if he have deceiv'd me; how melanchollies I am! I will knog his urinals about his knave's coftard, when I have good opportunities for the orke: 'Plefs my foul! [Sings, being afraid. By fhallow rivers, to whofe falls 4 every way, old Windfor way, By By fhallow---- 'Mercy on me, I have a great difpofitions to cry. Melodious birds fing madrigalls - when as I fat and a thousand vragrant pofies.---- By fhal in Pabilon; low, &c. Simp. Yonder he is coming, this way, Sir Hugh. Eva. He's welcome. By fhallow rivers, to whofe falls Heav'n profper the right! what weapons is he? 180 Simp. No weapon, Sir; there comes my mafter, Mr. Shallow, and another gentleman, from Frogmore, over the ftile, this way. Eva. Pray you, give me my gown, or elfe keep it in your arms, SCENE II, Enter Page, Shallow, and Slender. Shal. How now, mafter Parfon? good-morrow, good Sir Hugh. Keep a gamefter from the dice, and a good student from his book, and it is wonderful. Slen. Ah fweet Anne Page! Page. 'Save you, good Sir Hugh. Eva. 'Plefs you from his mercy-fake, all of you. Sbal. What? the fword and the word? do you ftudy them both, Mr. Parfon? Page. And youthful still, in your doublet and hofe, this raw-rheumatick day? Eva. There is reafons and causes for it. Page. We are come to you, to do a good office, Mr. Parfon. Eva. Ferry well: what is it? Page. Yonder is a most reverend gentleman, who belike having receiv'd wrong by fome perfon, is at most odds with his own gravity and patience, that ever you faw. Shal. I have liv'd fourfcore years, and upward; I never heard a man of his place, gravity and learning, fo wide of his own refpect. Eva. What is he? Page. Page. I think you know him; Mr. Doctor Caius, the renowned French physician. Eva. Got's will and his paffion of my heart! I had as lief you should tell me of a mefs of porridge. Page. Why? Eva. He has no more knowledge in Hibocrates and Galen; and he is a knave befides, a cowardly knave as you would defire to be acquainted withal. Page. I warrant you, he's the man fhould fight with him. Slen. O fweet Anne Page! SCENE NE III. Enter Hoft, Caius, and Rugby. Shal. It appears fo by his weapons: keep them afunder; here comes Doctor Caius. Page. Nay, good Mr. Parfon, keep in your weapon. Shal. So do you, good Mr. Doctor. Hoft. Difarm them, and let them question; let them keep their limbs whole, and hack our English. Caius. I pray you, let-a me speak a vord vith your ear: verfore vill you not meet-a me? Eva. Pray you, use your patience in good time. Caius. By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog, John ape. Eva. Pray you, let us not be laughing-ftocks to other men's humours; I defire you in friendship, and will one way or other make you amends; I will knog your urinal about your knave's cogs-comb for milling your meetings and appointments. Caius. Diable! Jack Rugby, mine hoft de Jartere, have I not stay for him, to kill him? have I not at de place I did appoint? Eva. As I am a chriftian's-foul, now look you, this is the place appointed; I'll be judgment by mine hoft of the garter. Hoft. Hoft. Peace, I fay, Gallia and 'Wallia, French and Welch, foul-curer, and body-curer. Caius. Ay, dat is very good, excellent. Hoft. Peace, I fay; here mine hoft of the garter. Am I politick? am I fubtle? am I a Machiavel? fhall I lose my Doctor? no; he gives me the potions and the motions. Shall I lofe Shall I lose my prieft? my Sir Hugh? no; he gives me the proverbs and the noverbs. Give me thy hand, celeftial, fo. Boys of art, I have deceiv'd you both: I have directed you to wrong places; your hearts are mighty, your skins are whole, and let burn'd fack be the iffue. Come, lay their fwords to pawn. Follow me, lad of peace, follow, follow, follow. Shal. Truft me, a mad hoft. Follow, gentlemen, follow. Slen. O fweet Anne Page! [Exeunt Shal. Slen. Page and Hoft. Caius. Ha! do I perceive dat? have you make-a de fot of us, ha, ha? Eva. This is well, he has made us his vlouting-stock: I defire you that we may be friends; and let us knog our prains together to be revenge on this fame fcald-fcurvycogging companion, the host of the garter. Caius. By gar, vith all my heart; he promise to bring me ver is Anne Page; by gar, he deceive me too. Eva. Well, I will finite his noddles; pray you, follow. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. The Street... Enter Mistress 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. 5 Gaul, Rob. I had rather forfooth go before you like a man, than follow him like a dwarf. Mrs. Page. O, you are a flattering boy; now I fee you'll be a courtier. Enter Ford.. Ford. Well met, mistress Page; whither go you? Mrs. Page. Truly, Sir, to fee your wife; is fhe at home? Ford. Ay, and as idle as fhe may hang together for want of company; I think if your husbands were dead, you two would marry. Mrs. Page. Be fure 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, firrah? Rob. Sir John Falstaff. Ford. Sir John Falstaff? Mrs. Page. He, he; I can never hit on's name; there is fuch a league between my good man and he. Is your wife at home indeed? her. Ford. Indeed fhe is. Mrs. Page. By your leave, Sir; I am fick 'till I fee [Exeunt Mrs. Page and Robin. Ford. Has Page any brains? hath he any eyes? hath he any thinking? fure they fleep; he hath no ufe of them. Why, this boy will carry a letter twenty mile as easy as a cannon will shoot point-blank twelve-fcore; he pieces out his wife's inclination, he gives her folly motion and advantage, and now fhe's going to my wife, and Falstaff's boy with her. A man may hear this fhower fing in the wind: and Falstaff's boy with her! good plots; they are laid, and our revolted wives fhare damnation together. Well, I will take him, then torture my wife, pluck the borrowed |