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Eva. You fuffer for a pad confcience; your wife is. as honest a o'mans, as I will defires among five thoufand, and five hundred too.

Caius. By gar, I fee, 'tis an honest woman.

Ford. Well, I promis'd you a dinner; come, come, walk in the park. I pray you, pardon me; I will hereafter make known to you, why I have done this. Come, wife; come, miftrefs Page; I pray you pardon me: pray heartily, pardon me.

Page. Let's go in, gentlemen; but trust me, we'll mock him. I do invite you to morrow morning to my house to breakfaft; after, we'll a birding together; I have a fine hawk for the bufh. Shall it be fo?

Ford. Any thing.

Eva. If there is one, I fhall make two in the company.

Caius. If there be one or two, I fhall make-a de turd.

Eva. In your teeth, for fhame.

Ford. Pray you go, Mr. Page.

Eva. I pray you now, remembrance to morrow on the loufie knave, mine Hoft.

Caius. Dat is good, by gar, with all my heart. Eva. A loufie knave, to have his gibes, and his mockeries.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

XII.

Changes to Page's House.

Enter Fenton and Mistress Anne Page.

Fent. I See, I cannot get thy father's love;

Therefore no more turn me to him, fweet
Nan.

Anne. Alas! how then?

Fen. Why, thou must be thy felf.

He doth object, I am too great of birth,

And

And that my state being gall'd with my expence,
I seek to heal it only by his wealth.

Befides thefe, other bars he lays before me,
My riots paft, my wild focieties:
And tells me, 'tis a thing impoffible
I fhould love thee, but as a property.
Anne. May be, he tells you true.

Fent. No, heav'n fo fpeed me in my time to come!
Albeit, I will confefs, thy father's wealth
Was the first motive that I woo'd thee, Anne:
Yet wooing thee, I found thee of more value
Than ftamps in gold, or fums in fealed bags;
And 'tis the very riches of thy felf
That now I aim at.

Anne. Gentle Mr. Fenton,

Yet feek my father's love: ftill feek it, Sir;
If opportunity and humbleft fuit

Cannot attain it, why then

-hark you hither. [Fenton and Mistress Anne go apart.

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Enter Shallow, Slender, and Mistress Quickly.

Shal. Break their talk, miftrefs Quickly; my kinf man shall speak for himself.

Slen. I'll make a fhaft or a bolt on't: 'd'slid, 'tis but venturing.

Shal. Be not difmay'd.

Slen. No, fhe fhall not dismay me? I care not for that, but that I am affeard.

Quic. Hark ye, Mr. Slender would fpeak a word with you.

Anne. I come to him.-This is my father's choice. O, what a world of vile ill-favour'd faults Look handfome in three hundred pounds a year! Quic. And how does good master Fenton? pray you, a word with you.

X 4

Shal.

Shal. She's coming; to her, coz. O, boy, thou hacft a father!

Slen. I had a father, Mrs. Anne; my uncle can tell you good jefts of him. Pray you, uncle, tell Mrs. Anne the jeft, how my father ftole two geese out of a pen, good uncle.

Shal. Miftrefs Anne, my coufin loves you.

Slen. Ay, that I do, as well as I love any woman in Gloucestershire.

Sha!. He will maintain you like a gentlewoman. Slen. Ay, that I will, come cut and long-tail, under the degree of a Squire,

Shal. He will make you a hundred and fifty pounds jointure.

Anne. Good master Shallow, let him woo for himself.

Shal. Marry, I thank you for it; I thank you for that. Good comfort; fhe calls you, coz: I'll leave you.

Anne. Now, mafter Slender.

Slen. Now, good mistress Anne.
Anne. What is your will?

Slen. My will? od's heart-lings, that's a pretty jeft, 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 may ask your father; here he comes.

SCENE

L

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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 house:
I told you, Sir, my daughter is difpos'd of.

Fent. Nay, mafter Page, be not impatient.

Mrs. Page. Good Master 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 mistress 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, I feek you a better hufband.

Quic. That's my master, master Doctor.

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

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

Can we think the speaker would thus ridicule her own imprecation? We may be fure the laft line fhould be given to the procarefs, Quickly, who would mock the young woman's averfion for her mafter the Doctor.

Mrs. Page,

Mrs Page. Come, trouble not your felf; good mafter Fenton,

I will not be your friend nor enemy:

My daughter will I queftion how fhe 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.[Exeunt 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, and a phyfician?
look on mafter Fenton: this is my doing.

Fent. I thank thee; and I pray thee, once to night Give my sweet 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 mistress 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 fpeciously for Mr. Fenton. Well, I muft of another errand to Sir John Falstaff from my two miftreffes; what a beast am I to flack it? [Exit.

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Fal. Go fetch me a quart of fack, put a toaft in't. [Exit 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

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