Nym. My humour shall not cool: I will incense Page to deal with poison; I will possess him with yellowness, for 95 the revolt of mine is dangerous: that is my true humour.

Pist. Thou art the Mars of malecontents: I second thee; troop on.

Exeunt.

I. 4 Scene IV. A room in Doctor Caius’s house.

Enter Mistress Quickly, Simple, and Rugby.

Quick. What, John Rugby! I pray thee, go to the casement, and see if you can see my master, Master Doctor Caius, coming. If he do, i’ faith, and find any body in the house, here will be an old abusing of God’s 5 patience and the king’s English.

Rug. I’ll go watch.

Quick. Go; and we’ll have a posset for’t soon at night, in faith, at the latter end of a sea-coal fire. [Exit Rugby.] An honest, willing, kind fellow, as ever servant shall come 10 in house withal; and, I warrant you, no tell-tale nor no breed-bate: his worst fault is, that he is given to prayer; he is something peevish that way: but nobody but has his fault; but let that pass. Peter Simple, you say your name is?

Sim. Ay, for fault of a better.

15 Quick. And Master Slender’s your master?

Sim. Ay, forsooth.

Quick. Does he not wear a great round beard, like a glover’s paring-knife?

Sim. No, forsooth: he hath but a little wee face, with 20 a little yellow beard,—a Cain-coloured beard.

Quick. A softly-sprighted man, is he not?

Sim. Ay, forsooth: but he is as tall a man of his hands as any is between this and his head; he hath fought with a warrener.

I. 4.
25 Quick. How say you?—O, I should remember him: does he not hold up his head, as it were, and strut in his gait?

Sim. Yes, indeed, does he.

Quick. Well, heaven send Anne Page no worse fortune! Tell Master Parson Evans I will do what I can 30 for your master: Anne is a good girl, and I wish—

Re-enter Rugby.

Rug. Out, alas! here comes my master. 

Quick. We shall all be shent. Run in here, good young man; go into this closet: he will not stay long. [Shuts Simple in the closet.] What, John Rugby! John! 35 what, John, I say! Go, John, go inquire for my master; I doubt he be not well, that he comes not home.

[Singing] And down, down, adown-a, &c.

Enter Doctor Caius.

Caius. Vat is you sing? I do not like des toys. Pray you, go and vetch me in my closet un boitier vert,—a box, 40 a green-a box: do intend vat I speak? a green-a box.

Quick. Ay, forsooth; I’ll fetch it you. [Aside] I am glad he went not in himself: if he had found the young man, he would have been horn-mad.

Caius. Fe, fe, fe, fe! ma foi, il fait fort chaud. Je 45 m’en vais à la cour,—la grande affaire.

Quick. Is it this, sir?

Caius. Oui; mette le au mon pocket: dépêche, quickly. Vere is dat knave Rugby?

Quick. What, John Rugby! John!

I. 4.
50 Rug. Here, sir!

Caius. You are John Rugby, and you are Jack Rugby. Come, take-a your rapier, and come after my heel to the court.

Rug. ’Tis ready, sir, here in the porch.

55 Caius. By my trot, I tarry too long. —Od’s me! Qu’ai-j’oublié! dere is some simples in my closet, dat I vill not for the varld I shall leave behind.

Quick. Ay me, he’ll find the young man there, and be mad!

60 Caius. O diable, diable! vat is in my closet? Villain! larron! [Pulling Simple out.] Rugby, my rapier!

Quick. Good master, be content.

Caius. Wherefore shall I be content-a?

Quick. The young man is an honest man.

65 Caius. What shall de honest man do in my closet? dere is no honest man dat shall come in my closet.

Quick. I beseech you, be not so phlegmatic. Hear the truth of it: he came of an errand to me from Parson Hugh.

Caius. Vell.

70 Sim. Ay, forsooth; to desire her to—

Quick. Peace, I pray you.

Caius. Peace-a your tongue. Speak-a your tale.

Sim. To desire this honest gentlewoman, your maid, to speak a good word to Mistress Anne Page for my I. 4.
75 master in the way of marriage.

Quick. This is all, indeed, la! but I’ll ne’er put my finger in the fire, and need not.

Caius. Sir Hugh send-a you? Rugby, baille me some paper. Tarry you a little-a while. Writes.

80 Quick. [Aside to Simple] 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: and the very yea and the no is, the French doctor, my master,—I 85 may call him my master, look you, for I keep his house; and I wash, wring, brew, bake, scour, dress meat and drink, make the beds, and do all myself,—

Sim. [Aside to Quickly] ’Tis a great charge to come under one body’s hand.

90 Quick. [Aside to Simple] Are you avised o’ that? you shall find it a great charge: and to be up early and down late;—but notwithstanding,—to tell you in your ear; I would have no words of it,—my master himself is in love with Mistress Anne Page: but notwithstanding that, I know 95 Anne’s mind,—that’s neither here nor there.

Caius. 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 a scurvy jack-a-nape priest to meddle or make. You may be gone; it is not good you tarry here. —By I. 4.
100 gar, I will cut all his two stones; by gar, he shall not have a stone to throw at his dog.

Exit Simple.

Quick. Alas, he speaks but for his friend.

Caius. It is no matter-a ver dat:—do not you tell-a me dat I shall have Anne Page for myself?—By gar, I vill 105 kill de Jack priest; and I have appointed mine host of de Jarteer to measure our weapon:—By gar, I will myself have Anne Page.

Quick. Sir, the maid loves you, and all shall be well. We must give folks leave to prate: what, the good-jer!

110 Caius. Rugby, come to the court with me. By gar, if I have not Anne Page, I shall turn your head out of my door. Follow my heels, Rugby.

Exeunt Caius and Rugby.

Quick. You shall have An fool’s-head of your own. No, I know Anne’s mind for that: never a woman in 115 Windsor knows more of Anne’s mind than I do; nor can do more than I do with her, I thank heaven.

Fent. [Within] Who’s within there? ho!

Quick. Who’s there, I trow? Come near the house, I pray you.

Enter Fenton.

120 Fent. How now, good woman! how dost thou?

Quick. The better that it pleases your good worship to ask.

Fen. What news? how does pretty Mistress Anne?

Quick. In truth, sir, and she is pretty, and honest, and I. 4.
125 gentle; and one that is your friend, I can tell you that by the way; I praise heaven for it.

Fent. Shall I do any good, thinkest thou? shall I not lose my suit?

Quick. Troth, sir, all is in his hands above: but notwithstanding, 130 Master Fenton, I’ll be sworn on a book, she loves you. Have not your worship a wart above your eye?

Fent. Yes, marry, have I; what of that?

Quick. Well, thereby hangs a tale:—good faith, it is such another Nan; but, I detest, an honest maid as ever 135 broke bread:—we had an hour’s talk of that wart. —I shall never laugh but in that maid’s company!—But, indeed, she is given too much to allicholy and musing: but for you—well, go to.

Fent. Well, I shall see her to-day. Hold, there’s 140 money for thee; let me have thy voice in my behalf: if thou seest her before me, commend me.

Quick. Will I? i’ faith, that we will; and I will tell your worship more of the wart the next time we have confidence; and of other wooers.

145 Fent. Well, farewell; I am in great haste now.

Quick. Farewell to your worship. [Exit Fenton.] 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? Exit.

ACT II.

II. 1 Scene I. Before Page’s house.

Enter Mistress Page, with a letter.

Mrs Page. What, have I scaped love-letters in the holiday-time of my beauty, and am I now a subject for them? Let me see. Reads:

‘Ask me no reason why I love you; for though Love use Reason 5 for his physician, 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 soldier can suffice,—that 10 I love thee. I will not say, pity me,—’tis not a soldier-like phrase; but I say, love me. By me,

What a Herod of Jewry is this! O wicked, wicked world! One that is well-nigh worn to pieces with age to show himself a young gallant! What an unweighed behaviour hath 20 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 II. 1.
25 parliament for the putting down of men. How shall I be revenged on him? for revenged I will be, as sure as his guts are made of puddings.

Enter Mistress Ford.

Mrs Ford. Mistress Page! trust me, I was going to your house.

30 Mrs Page. And, trust me, I was coming to you. You look very ill.

Mrs Ford. Nay, I’ll ne’er believe that; I have to show to the contrary.

Mrs Page. Faith, but you do, in my mind.

35 Mrs Ford. Well, I do, then; yet, I say, I could show you to the contrary. O Mistress Page, give me some counsel!

Mrs Page. What’s the matter, woman?

Mrs Ford. O woman, if it were not for one trifling respect, 40 I could come to such honour!

Mrs Page. Hang the trifle, woman! take the honour. What is it?—dispense with trifles;—what is it?

Mrs Ford. If I would but go to hell for an eternal moment or so, I could be knighted.

45 Mrs Page. What? thou liest! Sir Alice Ford! These knights will hack; and so thou shouldst not alter the article of thy gentry.

Mrs Ford. We burn daylight:—here, read, read; perceive how I might be knighted. I shall think the worse of II. 1.
50 fat men, as long as I have an eye to make difference of men’s liking: and yet he would not swear; praised women’s modesty; and gave such orderly and well-behaved reproof to all uncomeliness, that I would have sworn his disposition would have gone to the truth of his words; but they do no 55 more adhere and keep place together than the Hundredth Psalm to the tune of ‘Green Sleeves.’ What tempest, I trow, threw this whale, with so many tuns of oil in his belly, ashore at Windsor? How shall I be revenged on him? I think the best way were to entertain him with 60 hope, till the wicked fire of lust have melted him in his own grease. Did you ever hear the like?

Mrs Page. 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: 65 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: he will print them, out of doubt; for he cares not what he puts into the press, when he would 70 put us two. I had rather be a giantess, and lie under Mount Pelion. Well, I will find you twenty lascivious turtles ere one chaste man.

Mrs Ford. Why, this is the very same; the very hand, the very words. What doth he think of us?

II. 1.
75 Mrs Page. 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 myself, he would never have boarded me in this fury.

80 Mrs Ford. ‘Boarding,’ call you it? I’ll be sure to keep him above deck.

Mrs Page. 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 85 suit, and lead him on with a fine-baited delay, till he hath pawned his horses to mine host of the Garter.

Mrs Ford. Nay, I will consent to act any villany against him, that may not sully the chariness of our honesty. O, that my husband saw this letter! it would give 90 eternal food to his jealousy.

Mrs Page. 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.

95 Mrs Ford. You are the happier woman.

Mrs Page. Let’s consult together against this greasy knight. Come hither. They retire.

Enter Ford, with Pistol, and Page, with Nym.

Ford. Well, I hope it be not so.

Ford. Why, sir, my wife is not young.

105 Ford. Love my wife!

Ford. What name, sir?

115 Ford. [Aside] I will be patient; I will find out this.

Nym. [To Page] 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 120 loves your wife; there’s the short and the long. My name is Corporal Nym; I speak, and I avouch; ’tis true: my name is Nym, and Falstaff loves your wife. Adieu. I love not the humour of bread and cheese [and there’s the humour of it]. Adieu. Exit.

II. 1.
125 Page. ‘The humour of it,’ quoth ’a! here’s a fellow frights English out of his wits.

Ford. I will seek out Falstaff.

Page. I never heard such a drawling, affecting rogue.

Ford. If I do find it:—well.

130 Page. I will not believe such a Cataian, though the priest o’ the town commended him for a true man.

Ford. ’Twas a good sensible fellow:—well.

Page. How now, Meg!

Mrs Page and Mrs Ford come forward.

Mrs Page. Whither go you, George? Hark you.

135 Mrs Ford. How now, sweet Frank! why art thou melancholy?

Ford. I melancholy! I am not melancholy. Get you home, go.

Mrs Ford. Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy 140 head. Now, will you go, Mistress Page?

Mrs Page. Have with you. You’ll come to dinner, George? [Aside to Mrs Ford] Look who comes yonder: she shall be our messenger to this paltry knight.

Mrs Ford. [Aside to Mrs Page] Trust me, I thought on 145 her: she’ll fit it.

Enter Mistress Quickly.

Mrs Page. You are come to see my daughter Anne?

Quick. Ay, forsooth; and, I pray, how does good Mistress Anne?

Mrs Page. Go in with us and see: we have an hour’s II. 1.
150 talk with you.

Exeunt Mrs Page, Mrs Ford, and Mrs Quickly.

Page. How now, Master Ford!

Ford. You heard what this knave told me, did you not?

Page. Yes: and you heard what the other told me?

Ford. Do you think there is truth in them?

155 Page. 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.

Ford. Were they his men?

160 Page. Marry, were they.

Ford. I like it never the better for that. Does he lie at the Garter?

Page. Ay, marry, does he. If he should intend this voyage toward my wife, I would turn her loose to him; and 165 what he gets more of her than sharp words, let it lie on my head.

Ford. 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 170 satisfied.

Page. Look where my ranting host of the Garter comes: there is either liquor in his pate, or money in his purse, when he looks so merrily.

Enter Host.

How now, mine host!

II. 1.
175 Host. How now, bully-rook! thou’rt a gentleman. Cavaleiro-justice, I say!

Enter Shallow.

Shal. I follow, mine host, I follow. Good even and twenty, good Master Page! Master Page, will you go with us? we have sport in hand.

180 Host. Tell him, cavaleiro-justice; tell him, bully-rook.

Shal. Sir, there is a fray to be fought between Sir Hugh the Welsh priest and Caius the French doctor.

Ford. Good mine host o’ the Garter, a word with you. Drawing him aside.

Host. What sayest thou, my bully-rook?

185 Shal. [To Page] 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, I will tell you what our sport shall be. They converse apart.

Host. Hast thou no suit against my knight, my 190 guest-cavaleire?

Ford. None, I protest: but I’ll give you a pottle of burnt sack to give me recourse to him, and tell him my name is Brook; only for a jest.

195 Host. 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, An-heires?

Shal. Have with you, mine host.

Page. I have heard the Frenchman hath good skill in II. 1.
200 his rapier.

Shal. Tut, sir, I could have told you more. In these times you stand on distance, your passes, stoccadoes, and I know not what: ’tis the heart, Master Page; ’tis here, ’tis here. I have seen the time, with my long sword I would 205 have made you four tall fellows skip like rats.

Host. Here, boys, here, here! shall we wag?

Page. Have with you. I had rather hear them scold than fight.

Exeunt Host, Shal., and Page.

Ford. Though Page be a secure fool, and stands so 210 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 find her honest, I lose not my labour; if she be otherwise, 215 ’tis labour well bestowed. Exit.

II. 2 Scene II. A room in the Garter Inn.

Enter Falstaff and Pistol.

Fal. I will not lend thee a penny.

Fal. Not a penny. I have been content, sir, you 5 should lay my countenance to pawn: I have grated upon my good friends for three reprieves for you and your coach-fellow Nym; or else you had looked through the grate, like a geminy of baboons. I am damned in hell for swearing to gentlemen my friends, you were good soldiers and 10 tall fellows; and when Mistress Bridget lost the handle of her fan, I took’t upon mine honour thou hadst it not.

Pist. Didst not thou share? hadst thou not fifteen pence?

Fal. Reason, you rogue, reason: thinkest thou I’ll endanger 15 my soul gratis? At a word, hang no more about me, I am no gibbet for you. Go. A short knife and a throng!—To your manor of Pickt-hatch! 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 20 I can do to keep the terms of my honour precise: I, I, I myself sometimes, leaving the fear of God on the left hand, and hiding mine honour in my necessity, am fain to shuffle, to hedge, and to lurch; and yet you, rogue, will ensconce your rags, your cat-a-mountain looks, your red-lattice II. 2.
25 phrases, and your bold-beating oaths, under the shelter of your honour! You will not do it, you!

Pist. I do relent: what would thou more of man?

Enter Robin.

Rob. Sir, here’s a woman would speak with you.

Fal. Let her approach.

Enter Mistress Quickly.

30 Quick. Give your worship good morrow.

Fal. Good morrow, good wife.

Quick. Not so, an’t please your worship.

Fal. Good maid, then.