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Fal. Bardolph, follow him: a tapster is a good trade: An old cloak makes a new jerkin ; a withered serving-man, a fresh tapster: Go; adieu. Bard. It is a life that I have desired; I will thrive.
[Exit BARD. Pist. O base Gongarian* wight! wilt thou the spigot wield ? Nym. He was gotten in drink: Is not the humour conceited ? His mind is not heroic, and there's the humour of it.
Fal. I am glad, I am so acquit of this tinder-box; his thefts were too open.: his filching was like an unskilful singer, he kept not time.
Nym. The good humour is, to steal at a minute's rest. Pist. Convey, the wise it call: Steal! foh ; a ficot for the phrase.
Fal. Well, Sirs, I am almost out at heels.
Fal. No quips now, Pistol ; indeed I am in the waist two yards about: but I am now about no waste: I am about thrift. Briefly, I do mean to make love to Ford's wife; I spy entertainment in her ; she discourses, she carves, she gives the leer of invitation : I can construe the action of her familiar style ; and the hardest voice of her behaviour, to be Englished rightly, is, I am Sir John Falstaff's.
Pist. He hath studied her well, and translated her well ; out of honesty into English.
Nym. The anchor is deep: will that humour pass ?
Fal. Now, the report goes, she has all the rule of her husband's purse; she hath legions of angels. I
Pist. As many devils entertain; and, To her, boy, say I. Nym. The humour rises; it is good: humour me the angels. Fal. I have writ me here a letter to her: and here another to Page's wife; who even now gave me good eyes too, examined my parts with most judicious eyliads; sometimes the beam of her view gilded my foot, sometimes my portly belly.
Pist. Then did the sun on dunghill shine.
Fal. O, she did so course o'er my exteriors with such a greedy intention, that the appetite of her eye did seem to scorch me up like a burning-glass ! Here's another letter to her : she bears the purse too! she is a region in Guiana, all gold and bounty. I will be cheaters to them both, and they shall be exchequers to me; they shall be my East and West Indies, and I will trade to them both. Go, bear thou this letter to mistress Page; and thou this to mistress Ford: we will thrive, lads, we will thrive.
* For Hungarian.
† Fig. $ Escheatour, an officer in the Exchequer.
Pist. Shall I Sir Pandarus of Troy become,
Nym. I will run no base humour ; here, take the humour letter; I will keep the 'haviour of reputation.
Fal. Hold, șirrah, [to RoB.] bear you these letters tightly ;* Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores.Rogues, hence avaunt! vanish like hailstones, go; Trudge, plod, away, o'er the hoof; seek shelter, pack! Falstaff will learn the humour of this age, French thrift, you rogues ; myself, and skirted page.
[Exeunt FALSTAFF and ROBIN. Pist. Let vultures gripe thy guts ! for gourd and fullamt
Nym. I have operations in my head, which be humours of
Nym. With both the humours, I:
How Falstaff, varlet vile,
And his soft couch defile. Nym. My humour shall not cool: I will incense Page to deal with poison; I will possess him with yellowness,|| for the revolt of mien is dangerous: that is my true humour.
Pist. Thou art the Mars of malcontents : I second thee; troop on.
[Exeunt. SCENE IV.-A Room in Dr. Caius' House.
Enter MRS. 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 patience and the king's English. Rug. I'll go watch.
[Exit RUGBY. Quick. Go; and we'll have a posset fort soon at night, in faith, at the latter end of a sea-coal fire. An honest, willing, kind fellow, as ever servant shall come in house withal; and, I warrant you, no tell-tale, nor no breed-bate:This 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. Quick. And master Slender's your master ? * Cleverly. † False dice.
# Sixpence I'll have in pocket. Instigate. Jealousy.
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 a little yellow beard; a Cain-coloured beard.
Quick. A softly-sprighted man, is he not?
Šim. 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.t
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 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. [Shuts SIMPLE in the closet.] He will not stay long.–What, John Rugby! John, what, John, I say !-Go, John, go inquire for my master; I doubt, he be not well, that he comes not home:-and down, down, adown-a, &c. [Sings.
Enter DOCTOR CAIUS. Caius. Vat is you sing? I do not like dese toys; Pray you, go and vetch me in my closet un boitier verd; a box, a greena box; Do intend vat I speak ? a green-a box.
Quick. Ay, forsooth, I'll fetch it you. I am glad he went not in himself; if he had found the young man, he would have been horn-mad.
[ Aside. Caius. Fe, fe, fe, fe! ma foi, il fait fort chaud. Je m'en vais à la Cour,-la grand affaire.
Quick. Is it this, Sir ?
Čaius. Ouy; mettez le au mon pocket; Dépêchez, quickly:Vere is dat knave Rugby?
Quick. What, John Rugby! John!
Caius. You are John Rugby, and you are Jack Rugby: Come, take-a your rapier, and come after my heel to de court.
Rug. 'Tis ready, Sir, here in the porch.
Caius. By iny trot, I tarry too long :-Od's me! Qu'ay joublié ? dere is some simples in my closet, dat I vill not for the varld I shall leave behind.
Quick. Ah me! he'll find the young man there, and be mad.
Čaius. O diable, diable ! vat is in my closet ?-Villany ? larron! [Pulling SIMPLE out.] Rugby, my rapier.
Quick. Good master, be content.
Caius. Vat shall de honest man do in my closet ? dere is no honest man dat shall come in my closet.
* Brave, + The keeper of a warren, Scolded, reprimanded. * The goujere, what the pox ?
Quick. I beseech you, be not so phlegmatic; hear the truth of it: He came of an errand to me from parson Hugh.
Sim. To desire this honest gentlewoman, your maid, to speak a good word to mistress Anne Page for my 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, baillez me some paper: -Tarry you a little-a while.
[Writes. Quick. I am glad he is so quiet: if he had been thoroughly moved, you should have heard him so loud, and so melancholy But notwithstanding, man, I'll do your master what good I can: and the very yea and the no is, the French Doctor, my master, I 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. 'Tis a great charge, to come under one body's hand. Quick. 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 Anne's mind, -that's neither here nor there.
Caius. You jack’nape; give-a dis letter to Sir Hugh; by gar, it is a shallenge: I vill cut his troat in de park; and I vill teach a scurvy jack-a-nape priest to meddle or make : you may begone; it is not good you tarry here :-by gar, I vill cut all his two stones; by gar, he shall not have a stone to trow at his dog.
[Exit SIMPLE. Quick. Alas, he speaks but for his friend.
Caius. It is no matter-a for dat: do not you tell-a me dat I shall have Anne Page for myself ?-by gar, I vill kill de Jack priest; and I have appointed mine host of de Jarterre to measure our weapon :-by gar, I vill 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 !*
Caius. Rugby, come to the court vit 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 fools-head of your own. No, I know Anne's mind for that: never a woman in Windsor knows more of Anne's mind than I do; nor can do more than I do with her, I thank heaven. Fent. [roithin). Who's within there, ho ? Quick. Who's there, I trow? Come near the house, I pray you.
Enter FENTON. Fent. How now, good woman; how dost thou ? Quick. The better that it pleases your good worship to ask.
Fent. What news, how does pretty mistress Anne ?
Quick. In truth, Sir, and she is pretty, and honest, and 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, 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 tail ;-good faith, it is such another Nan:--but, I detest,* an honest maid as ever 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 allichollyt and musing: But for you-Well, go to.
Fent. Well, I shall see her to-day: Hold, there's 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.
Fent. Well, farewell; I am in great haste now. [Exit.
Quick. Farewell to your worship:--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.
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
[Reads. Ask me no reason why I love you; for though love use reason for his precisian, I he admits him not for his counsellor : You are
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 a soldier can suffice), that I love thee. I will not say, pity me, 'tis not a soldier-like phrase ; but I say, love me. By me,
Thine own true knight,
* She means, I protest.
+ Melancholy. # Most probably Shakspeare wrote physician.