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Slen. My will? odd's-heart-lings, that's a pretty jest indeed, I ne'er made my will yet, I thank heav'n; I am not fuch a fickly creature, I give heav'n praise.

Anne. I mean, Mr. Slender, what would you with me? Slen. Truly for my own part, I would little or nothing with you; your father and my uncle have made motions; if it be my luck, fo; if not, happy man be his dole! they can tell you how things go better than I can; you ask your father; here he comes, may ask

SCENE XIV.

Enter Page, and Mistress Page.

Page. Now, mafter Slender: love him, daughter Anne.
Why, how now? what does mafter Fenton here?
You wrong me, Sir, thus ftill to haunt my houfe:
I tell you, Sir, my daughter is difpos'd of.
Fent. Nay, mafter Page, be not impatient.

Mrs. Page. Good mafter Fenton, come not to my child.
Page. She is no match for you.

Fent. Sir, will you hear me?

Page. No, good mafter Fenton.

Come, mafter Shallow; come, fon Slender, in,

Knowing my mind, you wrong me, mafter Fenton:

[Exeunt Page, Shallow, and Slender.

Quic. Speak to miftrefs Page.

Fent. Good miftrefs Page, for that I love your daughter In fuch 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.

Anne. Good mother, do not marry me to yon fool. Mrs. Page. I mean it not, 1 feek you a better hus band.

Quic. That's my mafter, mafter Doctor.

Anne. Alas, I had rather be fet quick i' th' earth, And bowl'd to death with turneps

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Mrs. Page. Come, trouble not your felf, good master
Fenton,

I will not be your friend nor enemy:

My daughter will I question how the loves you,
And as I find her, fo am I affected.

'Till then, farewel, Sir; fhe must needs go in,
Her father will be angry. [Exe. Mrs. Page and Anne.
Fent. Farewel, gentle miftrefs; farewel, Nan.

Quic. This is my doing now. Nay, faid I, will you caft away your child on a fool, 9 'or a phyfician? look on mafter Fenton: this is my doing.

Fent. I thank thee; and I pray thee, once to-night Give my fweet Nan this ring: there's for thy pains. [Exit, Quic. Now heav'n fend thee good fortune! A kind heart he hath, a woman would run through fire and water for fuch a kind heart. But yet, I would my mafter had miftrefs Anne, or I would Mr. Slender had her; or, in footh, I would Mr. Fenton had her. I will do what I can for them all three, for fo I have promis'd, and I'll be as good as my word, but fpecioufly for Mr. Fenton. Well, I must of another errand to Sir John Falstaff from my two mistresses; what a beast am I to flack it! [Exit,

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Fal.B Ardolph, I fay.

Bard. Here, Sir,

Fal. Go fetch me à quart of fack, put a toaft in't. [Ex. Bard.] Have I liv'd to be carry'd in a basket, like a barrow of butchers offal, and to be thrown into the Thames? well, if I be ferv'd fuch another trick, I'll have my brains ta'en out and butter'd, and give them to a dog

for

for a new-year's gift. The rogues flighted me into the river with as little remorfe as they would have drown'd a bitch's blind puppies, fifteen i' th' litter; and you may know by my fize that I have a kind of alacrity in finking: if the bottom were as deep as hell, I fhould down. I had been drown'd, but that the fhore was fhelvy and fhallow; a death that I abhor; for the water fwells a man: and what a thing fhould I have been when I had been fwell'd! I fhould have been a mountain of mummy. [Enter Bard.] Now, is the fack brew'd? Bard. Here's Mrs. Quickly, Sir, to speak with you. Fal. Come, let me pour in fome fack to the Thameswater; for my belly's as cold as if I had fwallow'd fnowballs for pills to cool the reins. Call her in.

Bard. Come in, woman.

SCENE

XVI.

Enter Miftrefs Quickly.

Quic. By your leave: I cry you mercy. Give your worthip good-morrow.

Fal. Take away these challices: go brew me a pottle of fack finely.

Bard. With eggs, Sir?

Fal. Simple of it felf: I'll no pullet-fperm in my brewage. "How now?

Quic. Marry, Sir, I come to your worship from miftrefs Ford.

Fal. Miftrefs Ford? I have had Ford enough; I was thrown into the Ford; I have my belly full of Ford.

Quic. Alas the day! good heart, that was not her fault: fhe does fo take on with her men; they miftook their erection.

Fal. So did I mine, to build on a foolish woman's promise.

Quic. Well, the laments, Sir, for it, that it would yern your heart to fee it. Her husband goes this morn

ing

a blind bitch's puppies,

...

ald edit. Theob. emend,

ing a birding; the defires you once more to come to her between eight and nine. I must carry her word quickly; fhe'll make you amends, I warrant you.

Fal. Well, I will vifit her; tell her fo, and bid her think what a man is: let her confider his frailty, and then judge of my merit.

Quic. I will tell her.

Fal. Do fo. Between nine and ten, fay'ft thou?
Quic. Eight and nine, Sir.

Fal. Well, be gone; I will not miss her.

Quic. Peace be with you, Sir.

[Exit.

Fal. I marvel I hear not of mafter Brook; he fent me

word to stay within: I like his mony well. Oh, here

he comes.

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Ford. 'Blefs you, Sir.

Fal. Now, mafter Brook, you come to know what hath pafs'd between me and Ford's wife.

Ford. That indeed, Sir John, is my business.

Fal. Master Brook, I will not lie to you: I was at her house the hour she appointed me,

Ford. And you fped, Sir?

Fal. Very ill-favour'dly, mafter Brook.

Ford. How, Sir! did the change her determination? Fal. No, mafter Brook; but the peaking cornuto her husband, mafter Brook, dwelling in a continual larum of jealoufie, comes in the inftant of our encounter, after we had embrac'd, kifs'd, protefted, and as it were fpoke the prologue of our comedy; and at his heels a rabble of his companions, thither provok'd and inftigated by his diftemper, and forfooth to fearch his houfe for his wife's love.

Ford. What, while you were there?

Fal. While I was there.

Ford. And did he search for you, and could not find you?

Fal.

Fal. You fhall hear. As good luck would have it, comes in one mistress Page, gives intelligence of Ford's approach, and by her invention, and Ford's wife's 'direction, they convey'd me into a buck-basket.

Ford. A buck-basket?

Fal. Yea, a buck-basket; ramm'd me in with foul shirts and smocks, focks, foul stockings, and greafie napkins, that, master Brook, there was the rankeft compound of villainous smells that ever offended noftril.

Ford. And how long lay you there?

Fal. Nay, you fhall hear, mafter Brook, what I have fuffer'd, to bring this woman to evil for your good. Being thus cramm'd in the basket, a couple of Ford's knaves, his hinds, were call'd forth by their miftrefs to carry me in the name of foul cloaths to Datchet-lane; they took me on their fhoulders, met the jealous knave their mafter in the door, who ask'd them once or twice what they had in their basket; I quak'd for fear, left the lunatick knave would have fearch'd it; but fate, ordaining he fhould be a cuckold, held his hand. Well, on went he for a fearch, and away went I for foul cloaths; but mark the fequel, mafter Brook; I fuffer'd the pangs of three egregious deaths: first, an intolerable fright, to be detected by a jealous rotten bell-weather; next to be compafs'd like a good bilbo, in the circumference of a peck, hilt to point, heel to head; and then to be stopt in, like a strong distillation, with ftinking cloaths that fretted in their own greafe: think of that, a man of my kidney; think of that, that am as fubject to heat as butter; a man of continual diffolution and thaw; it was a miracle to 'scape fuffocation. And in the height of this bath, when I was more than half stew'd in grease like a Dutch dish, to be thrown into the Thames, and cool'd glowing hot in that furge, like a horfe-fhoe; think of that; hiffing hot; think of that, mafter Brook.

Ford. In good fadness, Sir, I am forry that for my fake

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