Ford. Pardon me, wife. Henceforth do what thou wilt;
I rather will suspect the sun with cold
Than thee with wantonness: now doth thy honour stand,
In him that was of late an heretic,
As firm as faith.
10 Page.
’Tis well, ’tis well; no more:
Be not as extreme in submission
But let our plot go forward: let our wives
Yet once again, to make us public sport,
15 Appoint a meeting with this old fat fellow,
Where we may take him, and disgrace him for it.
Ford. There is no better way than that they spoke of.
Page. How? to send him word they’ll meet him in the Park at midnight? Fie, fie! he’ll never come.
20 Evans. You say he has been thrown in the rivers, and has been grievously peaten, as an old ’oman: methinks there should be terrors in him that he should not come; methinks his flesh is punished, he shall have no desires.
Page. So think I too.
IV. 4.
25
Mrs Ford.
Devise but how you’ll use him when he comes,
And let us two devise to bring him thither.
Mrs Page. There is an old tale goes that Herne the hunter,
Sometime a keeper here in Windsor forest,
Doth all the winter-time, at still midnight,
30 Walk round about an oak, with great ragg’d horns;
And there he blasts the tree, and takes the cattle,
And makes milch-kine yield blood, and shakes a chain
In a most hideous and dreadful manner:
You have heard of such a spirit; and well you know
35 The superstitious idle-headed eld
Receiv’d, and did deliver to our age,
This tale of Herne the hunter for a truth.
Page. Why, yet there want not many that do fear
In deep of night to walk by this Herne’s oak:
But what of this?
Page. Well, let it not be doubted but he’ll come:
And in this shape when you have brought him thither,
What shall be done with him? what is your plot?
45 Mrs Page. That likewise have we thought upon, and thus:
Nan Page my daughter and my little son
And three or four more of their growth we’ll dress
Like urchins, ouphes and fairies, green and white,
With rounds of waxen tapers on their heads,
IV. 4.
50
And rattles in their hands: upon a sudden,
As Falstaff, she, and I, are newly met,
Let them from forth a sawpit rush at once
With some diffused song: upon their sight,
We two in great amazedness will fly:
55 Then let them all encircle him about,
And, fairy-like, to-pinch the unclean knight;
And ask him why, that hour of fairy revel,
In their so sacred paths he dares to tread
In shape profane.
Mrs Ford.
And till he tell the truth,
60 Let the supposed fairies pinch him sound,
And burn him with their tapers.
Mrs Page.
The truth being known,
We’ll all present ourselves, dis-horn the spirit,
And mock him home to Windsor.
Ford.
The children must
Be practised well to this, or they’ll ne’er do’t.
65 Evans. I will teach the children their behaviours; and I will be like a jack-an-apes also, to burn the knight with my taber.
Ford. That will be excellent. I’ll go and buy them vizards.
70 Mrs Page. My Nan shall be the queen of all the fairies,
Finely attired in a robe of white.
Page. That silk will I go buy. [Aside] And in that time
Shall Master Slender steal my Nan away,
And marry her at Eton. Go send to Falstaff straight.
IV. 4.
75
Ford.
Nay, I’ll to him again in name of Brook:
He’ll tell me all his purpose: sure, he’ll come.
Mrs Page. Fear not you that. Go get us properties
And tricking for our fairies.
Evans. Let us about it: it is admirable pleasures and 80 fery honest knaveries.
Exeunt Page, Ford, and Evans.
Mrs Page. Go, Mistress Ford,
Send quickly to Sir John, to know his mind.
Exit Mrs Ford.
I’ll to the doctor: he hath my good will,
And none but he, to marry with Nan Page.
85 That Slender, though well landed, is an idiot;
And he my husband best of all affects.
The doctor is well money’d, and his friends
Potent at court: he, none but he, shall have her,
Though twenty thousand worthier come to crave her. Exit.
IV. 5 Scene V. A room in the Garter Inn.
Enter Host and Simple.
Host. What wouldst thou have, boor? what, thick-skin? speak, breathe, discuss; brief, short, quick, snap.
Sim. Marry, sir, I come to speak with Sir John Falstaff from Master Slender.
5 Host. There’s his chamber, his house, his castle, his standing-bed, and truckle-bed; ’tis painted about with the story of the Prodigal, fresh and new. Go knock and call; he’ll speak like an Anthropophaginian unto thee: knock, I say.
10 Sim. There’s an old woman, a fat woman, gone up into his chamber: I’ll be so bold as stay, sir, till she come down; I come to speak with her, indeed.
Host. Ha! a fat woman! the knight may be robbed: I’ll call. —Bully knight! bully Sir John! speak from thy 15 lungs military: art thou there? it is thine host, thine Ephesian, calls.
Fal. [Above] How now, mine host!
Host. Here’s a Bohemian-Tartar tarries the coming down of thy fat woman. Let her descend, bully, let her 20 descend; my chambers are honourable: fie! privacy? fie!
Enter Falstaff.
Fal. There was, mine host, an old fat woman even now with me; but she’s gone.
Sim. Pray you, sir, was’t not the wise woman of Brentford?
IV. 5.
25
Fal.
Ay, marry, was it, muscle-shell: what would you with her?
Sim. My master, sir, Master Slender, sent to her, seeing her go thorough the streets, to know, sir, whether one Nym, sir, that beguiled him of a chain, had the chain or no.
30 Fal. I spake with the old woman about it.
Sim. And what says she, I pray, sir?
Fal. Marry, she says that the very same man that beguiled Master Slender of his chain cozened him of it.
Sim. I would I could have spoken with the woman 35 herself; I had other things to have spoken with her too from him.
Fal. What are they? let us know.
Host. Ay, come; quick.
Sim. I may not conceal them, sir.
40 Host. Conceal them, or thou diest.
Sim. Why, sir, they were nothing but about Mistress Anne Page; to know if it were my master’s fortune to have her or no.
Fal. ’Tis, ’tis his fortune.
45 Sim. What, sir?
Fal. To have her, or no. Go; say the woman told me so.
Sim. May I be bold to say so, sir?
Fal. Ay, sir; like who more bold.
IV. 5.
50
Sim.
I thank your worship: I shall make my master glad with these tidings.
Exit.
Host. Thou art clerkly, thou art clerkly, Sir John. Was there a wise woman with thee?
Fal. Ay, that there was, mine host; one that hath 55 taught me more wit than ever I learned before in my life; and I paid nothing for it neither, but was paid for my learning.
Enter Bardolph.
Bard. Out, alas, sir! cozenage, mere cozenage!
Host. Where be my horses? speak well of them, 60 varletto.
Bard. Run away with the cozeners: for so soon as I came beyond Eton, they threw me off, from behind one of them, in a slough of mire; and set spurs and away, like three German devils, three Doctor Faustuses.
65 Host. They are gone but to meet the duke, villain: do not say they be fled; Germans are honest men.
Enter Sir Hugh Evans.
Evans. Where is mine host?
Host. What is the matter, sir?
Evans.
Have a care of your entertainments: there is a
70
friend of mine come to town, tells me there is three cozen-germans that
has cozened all the hosts of Readins, of Maidenhead, of Colebrook, of horses
and money. I tell you for good will, look you: you are wise, and
full of gibes and vlouting-stocks, and ’tis not convenient you should be
IV. 5.
75
cozened. Fare you well.
Exit.
Enter Doctor Caius.
Caius. Vere is mine host de Jarteer?
Host. Here, master doctor, in perplexity and doubtful dilemma.
Caius. I cannot tell vat is dat: but it is tell-a me dat 80 you make grand preparation for a duke de Jamany: by my trot, dere is no duke dat the court is know to come. I tell you for good vill: adieu. Exit.
Host. Hue and cry, villain, go!—Assist me, knight. —I am undone!—Fly, run, hue and cry, villain!—I am 85 undone!
Fal. I would all the world might be cozened; for I have been cozened and beaten too. If it should come to the ear of the court, how I have been transformed, and how my transformation hath been washed and cudgelled, they 90 would melt me out of my fat drop by drop, and liquor fishermen’s boots with me: I warrant they would whip me with their fine wits till I were as crest-fallen as a dried pear. I never prospered since I forswore myself at primero. Well, if my wind were but long enough [to say my prayers,] I 95 would repent.
Enter Mistress Quickly.
Now, whence come you?
Quick. From the two parties, forsooth.
Fal.
The devil take one party, and his dam the other! and so they shall be
both bestowed. I have suffered more
IV. 5.
100
for their sakes, more than the villanous inconstancy of man’s
disposition is able to bear.
Quick. And have not they suffered? Yes, I warrant; speciously one of them; Mistress Ford, good heart, is beaten black and blue, that you cannot see a white spot 105 about her.
Fal. What tellest thou me of black and blue? I was beaten myself into all the colours of the rainbow; and I was like to be apprehended for the witch of Brentford: but that my admirable dexterity of wit, my counterfeiting the 110 action of an old woman, delivered me, the knave constable had set me i’ the stocks, i’ the common stocks, for a witch.
Quick. Sir, let me speak with you in your chamber: you shall hear how things go; and, I warrant, to your content. 115 Here is a letter will say somewhat. Good hearts, what ado here is to bring you together! Sure, one of you does not serve heaven well, that you are so crossed.
Fal. Come up into my chamber.
Exeunt.
IV. 6 Scene VI. The same. Another room in the Garter Inn.
Enter Fenton and Host.
Host. Master Fenton, talk not to me; my mind is heavy: I will give over all.
Fent. Yet hear me speak. Assist me in my purpose,
And, as I am a gentleman, I’ll give thee
5 A hundred pound in gold more than your loss.
Host. I will hear you, Master Fenton; and I will at the least keep your counsel.
Fent. From time to time I have acquainted you
With the dear love I bear to fair Anne Page;
10 Who mutually hath answer’d my affection,
So far forth as herself might be her chooser,
Even to my wish: I have a letter from her
Of such contents as you will wonder at;
The mirth whereof so larded with my matter,
15 That neither singly can be manifested,
Without the show of both; fat Falstaff
Hath a great scene: the image of the jest
I’ll show you here at large. Hark, good mine host.
To-night at Herne’s oak, just ’twixt twelve and one,
20 Must my sweet Nan present the Fairy Queen;
The purpose why, is here: in which disguise,
While other jests are something rank on foot,
Her father hath commanded her to slip
Away with Slender, and with him at Eton
IV. 6.
25
Immediately to marry: she hath consented:
Now, sir,
Her mother, even strong against that match,
And firm for Doctor Caius, hath appointed
That he shall likewise shuffle her away,
While other sports are tasking of their minds,
And at the deanery, where a priest attends,
Straight marry her: to this her mother’s plot
She seemingly obedient likewise hath
Made promise to the doctor. Now, thus it rests:
35 Her father means she shall be all in white;
And in that habit, when Slender sees his time
To take her by the hand and bid her go,
She shall go with him: her mother hath intended,
The better to denote her to the doctor,—
40 For they must all be mask’d and vizarded,—
That quaint in green she shall be loose enrobed,
With ribands pendent, flaring ’bout her head;
And when the doctor spies his vantage ripe,
To pinch her by the hand, and, on that token,
45 The maid hath given consent to go with him.
Host. Which means she to deceive, father or mother?
Fent. Both, my good host, to go along with me:
And here it rests,—that you’ll procure the vicar
To stay for me at church ’twixt twelve and one,
IV. 6.
50
And, in the lawful name of marrying,
To give our hearts united ceremony.
Host. Well, husband your device; I’ll to the vicar:
Bring you the maid, you shall not lack a priest.
Fent. So shall I evermore be bound to thee;
55 Besides, I’ll make a present recompense.
Exeunt.
ACT V.
V. 1 Scene I. A room in the Garter Inn.
Enter Falstaff and Mistress Quickly.
Fal. Prithee, no more prattling; go. I’ll hold. This is the third time; I hope good luck lies in odd numbers. Away! go. They say there is divinity in odd numbers, either in nativity, chance, or death. Away!
5 Quick. I’ll provide you a chain; and I’ll do what I can to get you a pair of horns.
Fal. Away, I say; time wears: hold up your head, and mince.
Exit Mrs Quickly.
Enter Ford.
How now, Master Brook! Master Brook, the matter will 10 be known to-night, or never. Be you in the Park about midnight, at Herne’s oak, and you shall see wonders.
Ford. Went you not to her yesterday, sir, as you told me you had appointed?
Fal.
I went to her, Master Brook, as you see, like a
15
poor old man: but I came from her, Master Brook, like a poor old woman.
That same knave Ford, her husband, hath the finest mad devil of jealousy
in him, Master Brook, that ever governed frenzy. I will tell
you:—he beat me grievously, in the shape of a woman; for in the
shape of
20
man, Master Brook, I fear not Goliath with a weaver’s beam; because I
know also life is a shuttle. I am in haste; go along with me: I’ll
tell you all, Master Brook. Since I plucked geese, played truant, and
whipped top, I knew not what ’twas to be beaten till lately. Follow
V. 1.
25
me: I’ll tell you strange things of this knave Ford, on whom to-night I
will be revenged, and I will deliver his wife into your hand. Follow.
Strange things in hand, Master Brook! Follow.
Exeunt.
V. 2 Scene II. Windsor Park.
Enter Page, Shallow, and Slender.
Page. Come, come; we’ll couch i’ the castle-ditch till we see the light of our fairies. Remember, son Slender, my daughter.
Slen. Ay, forsooth; I have spoke with her, and we 5 have a nay-word how to know one another: I come to her in white, and cry, ‘mum;’ she cries ‘budget;’ and by that we know one another.
Shal. That’s good too: but what needs either your ‘mum’ or her ‘budget?’ the white will decipher her well 10 enough. It hath struck ten o’clock.
Page. The night is dark; light and spirits will become it well. Heaven prosper our sport! No man means evil but the devil, and we shall know him by his horns. Let’s away; follow me.
Exeunt.
V. 3 Scene III. A street leading to the Park.
Enter Mistress Page, Mistress Ford, and Doctor Caius.
Mrs Page. Master doctor, my daughter is in green: when you see your time, take her by the hand, away with her to the deanery, and dispatch it quickly. Go before into the Park: we two must go together.
5 Caius. I know vat I have to do. Adieu.
Mrs Page. Fare you well, sir. [Exit Caius.] My husband will not rejoice so much at the abuse of Falstaff as he will chafe at the doctor’s marrying my daughter: but ’tis no matter; better a little chiding than a great deal of 10 heart-break.
Mrs Ford. Where is Nan now and her troop of fairies, and the Welsh devil Hugh?
Mrs Page. They are all couched in a pit hard by Herne’s oak, with obscured lights; which, at the very instant 15 of Falstaff’s and our meeting, they will at once display to the night.
Mrs Ford. That cannot choose but amaze him.
Mrs Page. If he be not amazed, he will be mocked; if he be amazed, he will every way be mocked.
20 Mrs Ford. We’ll betray him finely.
Mrs Page. Against such lewdsters and their lechery Those that betray them do no treachery.
Mrs Ford. The hour draws on. To the oak, to the oak!
Exeunt.
V. 4 Scene IV. Windsor Park.
Enter Sir Hugh Evans disguised, with others as Fairies.
Evans. Trib, trib, fairies; come; and remember your parts: be pold, I pray you; follow me into the pit; and when I give the watch-’ords, do as I pid you: come, come; trib, trib.
Exeunt.
V. 5 Scene V. Another part of the Park.
Enter Falstaff disguised as Horne.
Fal. The Windsor bell hath struck twelve; the minute draws on. Now, the hot-blooded gods assist me! Remember, Jove, thou wast a bull for thy Europa; love set on thy horns. O powerful love! that, in some respects, 5 makes a beast a man; in some other, a man a beast. You were also, Jupiter, a swan for the love of Leda. O omnipotent Love! how near the god drew to the complexion of a goose!—A fault done first in the form of a beast;—O Jove, a beastly fault! And then another fault in the semblance 10 of a fowl;—think on’t, Jove; a foul fault! When gods have hot backs, what shall poor men do? For me, I am here a Windsor stag; and the fattest, I think, i’ the forest. Send me a cool rut-time, Jove, or who can blame me to piss my tallow?—Who comes here? my doe?
Enter Mistress Ford and Mistress Page.
15 Mrs Ford. Sir John! art thou there, my deer? my male deer?
Fal. My doe with the black scut! Let the sky rain potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of Green Sleeves, hail kissing-comfits, and snow eringoes; let there come a tempest 20 of provocation, I will shelter me here.
Mrs Ford. Mistress Page is come with me, sweetheart.
Fal.
Divide me like a bribe buck, each a haunch: I will keep my sides to
myself, my shoulders for the fellow of this walk, and my horns I
bequeath your husbands.
V. 5.
25
Am I a woodman, ha? Speak I like Herne the hunter? Why, now is Cupid a
child of conscience; he makes restitution. As I am a true spirit,
welcome!
Noise within.
Mrs Page. Alas, what noise?
Mrs Ford. Heaven forgive our sins!
30 Fal. What should this be?
| Mrs Ford. | Away, away! |
They run off. |
| Mrs Page. |
Fal. I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the oil that’s in me should set hell on fire; he would never else cross me thus.
Enter Sir Hugh Evans, disguised as before; Pistol, as Hobgoblin; Mistress Quickly, Anne Page, and others, as Fairies, with tapers.
35 Quick. Fairies, black, grey, green, and white,
You moonshine revellers, and shades of night,
You orphan heirs of fixed destiny,
Attend your office and your quality.
Crier Hobgoblin, make the fairy oyes.
40 Pist. Elves, list your names; silence, you airy toys.
Cricket, to Windsor chimneys shalt thou leap:
Where fires thou find’st unraked and hearths unswept,
There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry:
Our radiant queen hates sluts and sluttery.
45 Fal. They are fairies; he that speaks to them shall die: I’ll wink and couch: no man their works must eye. Lies down upon his face.
Evans. Where’s Bede? Go you, and where you find a maid
That, ere she sleep, has thrice her prayers said,
Raise up the organs of her fantasy;
V. 5.
50
Sleep she as sound as careless infancy:
But those as sleep and think not on their sins,
Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides, and shins.
Quick. About, about;
Search Windsor Castle, elves, within and out:
55 Strew good luck, ouphes, on every sacred room;
That it may stand till the perpetual doom,
In state as wholesome as in state ’tis fit,
Worthy the owner, and the owner it.
The several chairs of order look you scour
60 With juice of balm and every precious flower:
Each fair instalment, coat, and several crest,
With loyal blazon, evermore be blest!
And nightly, meadow-fairies, look you sing,
Like to the Garter’s compass, in a ring:
65 Th’ expressure that it bears, green let it be,
More fertile-fresh than all the field to see;
And Honi soit qui mal y pense write
In emerald tufts, flowers purple, blue, and white;
Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery,
70 Buckled below fair knighthood’s bending knee:
Fairies use flowers for their charactery.
Away; disperse: but till ’tis one o’clock,
Our dance of custom round about the oak
Of Herne the hunter, let us not forget.
V. 5.
75
Evans.
Pray
you, lock hand in hand; yourselves in order set;
And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be,
To guide our measure round about the tree.—
But, stay; I smell a man of middle-earth.
Fal. Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy, lest he 80 transform me to a piece of cheese!
Pist. Vile worm, thou wast o’erlook’d even in thy birth.
Quick. With trial-fire touch me his finger-end:
If he be chaste, the flame will back descend,
And turn him to no pain; but if he start,
85 It is the flesh of a corrupted heart.
Pist. A trial, come.
Evans.
Come, will this wood take fire?
They burn him with their tapers.
Fal. Oh, Oh, Oh!
Quick. Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire!
About him, fairies; sing a scornful rhyme;
90 And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time.
Song.
Fie on sinful fantasy!
Fie on lust and luxury!
Lust is but a bloody fire,
Kindled with unchaste desire,
95 Fed in heart, whose flames aspire,
As thoughts do blow them, higher and higher.
Pinch him, fairies, mutually;
Pinch him for his villany;
Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about,
V. 5.
100
Till candles and starlight and moonshine be out.