bring my young man here to school: Look, where his mafter comes; 'tis a playing-day, I fee.

Enter Sir Hugh Evans.

How now, fir Hugh? no fchool to-day?

Eva. No; mafter Slender is let the boys leave to play.

Quic. Bleffing of his heart!

Mrs. Page. Sir Hugh, my husband fays, my fon profits nothing in the world at his book; I pray you, afk him fome queftions in his accidence.

Eva. Come hither, William;-hold up your head;

come.

Mrs. Page. Come on, firrah; hold up your head; answer your mafter, be not afraid.

Eva. William, how many numbers is in nouns ?
Will. Two.

Quic. Truly I thought there had been one number more; because they fay, od's nouns.

Eva. Peace your tatlings. What is fair, William?
Will. Pulcher.

Quic. Poulcats there are fairer things than poulcats, fure.

Eva. You are a very fimplicity 'oman; I pray you, peace. What is Lapis, William?

Will. A ftone.

Eva. And what is a stone, William?
Will. A pebble.

Eva. No, it is Lapis; I pray you, remember in your prain.

Will. Lapis.

Eva. That is a good William: What is he, William, that does lend articles?

Will. Articles are borrow'd of the pronoun; and be thus declin'd, Singulariter, nominativo, hic, hæc, hoc. Eva. Nominativo, hig, hag, hog;-pray you, mark : genitivo, hujus: Well, what is your accufative cafe? Will. Accufative, binc.

Y 4

Eva.

Eva. I pray you, have your remembrance, child; Accufativo, hung, hang, bog.

Quic.. Hang hog is Latin for bacon, I warrant you. Eva. Leave your prabbles, 'oman. What is the focative cafe, William ?

Will. O-vocativo, O.

Eva. Remember, William; focative is, caret.
Quic. And that's a good root.

Eva. 'Oman, forbear.

Mrs. Page. Peace.

Eva. What is your genitive cafe plural, William? Will. Genitive cafe?

Eva. Ay.

Will. Genitive, horum, harum, borum.

Quic. Vengeance of Giney's cafe! fie on her !-never name her, child, if the be a whore.

Eva. For fhame, 'oman.

Quic. You do ill to teach the child fuch words: he teaches him to hick and to hack, which they'll do faft enough of themselves; and to call horum:-fie upon you!

Eva. 'Oman art thou lunatics? haft thou no understanding for thy cafes, and the numbers of the genders? thou art a foolish chriftian creatures, as- I would defires.

Mrs. Page. Pr'ythee, hold thy peace.

Eva. Shew me now, William, fome declenfions of your pronouns.

9

Will. Forfooth, I have forgot,

Eva. It is ki, ka, cod; if you forget your kies',

borum, harum, horum.] Taylor, the water-poet, has borrowed this jeft, fuch as it is, in his character of a trumpet: "And come to horum, harum, horum, then "She proves a great proficient among men."

STEEVENS.

your kies, your kas, &c.] All this ribaldry is likewise.. STEEVENS.

found in Taylor the water-poet. See fol, edit. p. 106.

your

your kes, and your cods, you must be preeches. Go your ways and play, go.

Mrs. Page. He is a better scholar, than I thought

he was.

Eva. He is a good sprag' memory. memory. Farewell, miftrefs Page.

Mrs. Page. Adieu, good fir Hugh. Get you home, boy.-Come, we ftay too long.

SCENE II.

Ford's house.

Enter Falstaff and Mrs. Ford.

[Exeunt.

Fal. Mistress Ford, your forrow hath eaten up my fufferance: I fee, you are obfequious in your love, and I profefs requital to a hair's breadth; not only, miftrefs Ford, in the fimple office of love, but in all the accoutrement, complement, and ceremony of it. But are you fure of your husband now?

Mrs. Ford. He's a birding, fweet fir John. Mrs. Page. [Within.] What hoa, goffip Ford! what hoa!

Mrs. Ford. Step into the chamber, fir John.

Enter Mrs. Page.

[Exit Falstaff.

Mrs. Page. How now, fweetheart? who's at home befides yourself?

2

you

-you must be preeches.] Sir Hugh means to fay must be breech'd: i. e. flogg'd. To breech is to flog. So, in the Taming of the Shrew:

66

"I am no breeching scholar in the schools." Again, in the Humorous Lieutenant, of Beaumont and Fletcher: Cry like a breech'd boy, not eat a bit." STEEVENS. 3-Sprag] I am told that this word is ftill used by the common people in the neighbourhood of Bath, where it fignifies ready, alert, sprightly, and is pronounced as if it was written-prack.

STEEVENS.

Mrs.

Mrs. Ford. Why, none but mine own people.
Mrs. Page. Indeed?

Mrs. Ford. No, certainly-Speak louder. [Afide.
Mrs. Page. Truly, I am fo glad you have nobody

here.

Mrs. Ford. Why?

Mrs. Page. Why, woman, your husband is in his old lunes again: he fo takes on yonder with my hufband; fo rails against all married mankind; fo curfes all Eve's daughters, of what complexion foever; and fo buffets himself on the forehead, crying,

Peer-out, peer-out! that any madness, I ever yet beheld, feem'd but tamenefs, civility, and patience, to this diftemper he is in now: I am glad the fat knight is not here.

Mrs. Ford. Why, does he talk of him?

Mrs. Page. Of none but him; and swears, he was carried out, the last time he fearch'd for him, in a bafket: protests to my husband, he is now here; and hath drawn him and the reft of their company from their sport, to make another experiment of his fufpicion: but I am glad the knight is not here; now he fhall fee his own foolery.

Mrs. Ford. How near is he, mistress Page.

Mrs. Page. Hard by ; at street end; he will be here

anon.

Mrs. Ford. I am undone !-the knight is here. Mrs. Page. Why, then thou art utterly fham'd, and he's but a dead man. What a woman are you?Away with him, away with him; better fhame than murther.

· lunes

Ji. e. lunacy, frenzy. See a note on the Winter's Tale. The quarto 1630, and the folio, read lines, instead of lunes. The elder quartos his old vaine again. STEEVENS. be fo takes on-] To take on, which is now used for to grieve, feems to be used by our author for to rage. Perhaps it was applied to any pafion. JOHNSON.

Peer-out,] That is, appear horns. Shakespeare is at his old lunes. JOHNSON.

Mrs.

Mrs. Ford. Which way fhould he go? how should I bestow him? Shall I put him into the basket again? Enter Falstaff.

Fal. No, I'll come no more i' the basket: May I not go out, ere he come?

Mrs. Page. Alas, three of mafter Ford's brothers watch the door with piftols, that none fhould iffue out; otherwise you might flip away ere he came.But what make you here?

Fal. What fhall I do? I'll creep up into the chimney. Mrs. Ford. There they always ufe to discharge their birding-pieces creep into the kiln-hole.

Fal. Where is it?

Mrs. Ford. He will feek there on my word. Neither prefs, coffer, cheft, trunk, well, vault, but he hath an abstract for the remembrance of fuch places, and goes to them by his note: There is no hiding you in the house.

Fal. I'll go out then.

Mrs. Ford. If you go out in your own femblance, you die, fir John; unless you go out difguis'd. How might we disguise him?

Mrs. Page. Alas the day, I know not. There is no woman's gown big enough for him; otherwise, he might put on a hat, a muffler, and a kerchief, and fo efcape.

Fal. Good hearts, devife fomething: any extremity, rather than a mischief.

Mrs. Ford. My maid's aunt, the fat woman of Brentford, has a gown above.

Mrs. Page. On my word, it will ferve him; fhe's as big as he is and there's her thrum hat, and her muffler too: Run up, fir John.

7

8

Mrs.

an abstract. ] i. e. a lift, an inventory. STEEVENS. her thrum hat, and her mufler too: -] The thrum is

the end of a weaver's warp, and we may fuppofe, was used for