Pinch bim, fairies, mutually; Pinch him for his villany: Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about, During this Song, they pinch him. Doctor Caius comes one way, and steals away a boy in green; Slender another way, and he takes away a boy in white; and Fenton comes, and fteals away Mrs. Anne Page. A noife of hunting is made within. All the Fairies run away. Falftaff pulls off his Buck's head, and rifes. Enter Page, Ford, &c. They lay hold on him. Page. Nay, do not fly; I think, We've watcht you now; Will none but Herne the hunter ferve your turn? Mrs. Page. I pray you, come; hold up the jeft no higher. Now, good Sir John, how like you Windfor wives? See you thefe, husbands? do not these fair Yoaks Become the Forest better than the Town? Ford. Now, Sir, who's a cuckold now? mafter Brook, Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldly knave, here are his horns, mafter Brook; and, mafter Brook, he hath enjoy'd nothing of Ford's but his buck-basket, his cudgel, and twenty pounds of mony, which must be paid to mafter Brook; his horfes are arrested for it, mafter Brook. Mrs. Ford. Sir John, we have had ill luck; we could never meet. I will never take you for my love again, but I will always count you my deer. Fal. I do begin to perceive, that I am made an afs. Ford. Ay, and an ox too: both the proofs are ex tant. Fal. And these are not fairies? I was three or four times in the thought, they were not fairies; and yet the guiltinefs guiltinefs of my mind, the fudden furprize of my powers, drove the groffnefs of the foppery into a receiv'd belief, in defpight of the teeth of all rhime and reafon, that they were fairies. See now, how wit may be made a jack-a-lent, when 'tis upon ill imploy ment ! Eva. Sir John Falstaff, ferve Got, and leave your defires, and fairies will not pinfe you. Ford. Well faid, fairy Hugh. Eva. And leave you your jealoufies too, I pray you. Ford. I will never mistruft my wife again, till thou art able to woo her in good English. Fal. Have I laid my brain in the fun and dry'd it, that it wants matter to prevent fo grofs o'er-reaching as this? am I ridden with a Welch goat too? fhall I have a coxcomb of frize? 'tis time, I were choak'd with a piece of toasted cheese. Eva. Seefe is not good to give putter; your pelly is all putter. Fal. Seefe and putter? have I liv'd to ftand in the taunt of one, that makes fritters of English? this is enough to be the decay of luft and late-walking, through the Realm. Mrs. Page. Why, Sir John, do you think, though we would have thrust virtue out of our hearts by the head and shoulders, and have given ourselves without fcruple to hell, that ever the devil could have made you our delight? Ford. What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax? Page. Old, cold, wither'd, and of intolerable entrails? Ford. And one that is as flanderous as Satan? Ford. And as wicked as his wife? Eva. And given to fornications, and to taverns, and facks, and wines, and metheglins, and to drinkings, and fwearings, and ftarings, pribbles and prabbles? Fal. Fal. Well, I am your theme; you have the start of me; I am dejected; 7 I am not able to answer the Welch flannel; ignorance itself is a plummet o'er me; ufe me as you will. Ford. Marry, Sir, we'll bring you to Windsor to one Mr. Brook, that you have cozen'd of mony, to whom you should have been a pander: over and above that you have fuffer'd, I think, to repay that mony will be a biting affliction. Mrs. Ford. Nay, husband, let That go to make amends: Forgive that Summ, and fo we'll all be Friends. Ford. Well, here's my hand; all's forgiven at laft. Page. Yet be cheerful, Knight; thou fhalt eat a poffet to night at my houfe, where I will defire thee to laugh at my wife, that now laughs at thee. Tell her, Mr. Slender hath marry'd her daughter. Mrs. Page. Doctors doubt that; if Anne Page be my daughter, fhe is, by this, Doctor Caius's wife. S CE NE VI. Enter Slender. Slen. What hoe! hoe! father Page. [Afide. Page. Son, how now? how now, fon, have you difpatch'd? Slen. Difpatch'd? I'll make the best in Gloucesterfhire known on't; would I were hang'd la, else. Page. Of what, fon? 7 I am not able to answer the Welch FLANNEL.] Shakespear poffibly wrote Welch FLAMEN. As Sir Hugh was a choloric Prieft, and apt to take fire, FLAMEN was a very proper name, it being given to that order of Latin priefts from the flame-coloured habit. By the fame kind of humour the fcullion, in The Comedy of Errors, is called the Kitchen-Veftal, it being her business to keep the fire in repair. Slen. Slen. I came yonder at Eaton to marry mistress Anne Page, and fhe's a great lubberly boy. If it had not been i'th church, I would have fwing'd him, or he fhould have swing'd me. If I did not think it had been Anne Page, would I might never ftir, and 'tis a post-master's boy. Page. Upon my life, then you took the wrong. Slen. What need you tell me that? I think fo, when I took a boy for a girl: if I had been marry'd to him, for all he was in woman's apparel, I would not have had him. Page. Why, this is your own folly. Did not I tell you, how you fhould know my daughter by her garments ? Slen. I went to her in white and cry'd mum, and fhe cry'd budget, as Anne and I had appointed; and yet it was not Anne, but a post-mafter's-boy. Eva. Jefhu! Mafter Slender, cannot you fee but marry boys? Page. O, I am vext at heart. What shall I do? Mrs. Page. Good George, be not angry; I knew of your purpose, turn'd my daughter into green, and, indeed, the is now with the Doctor at the Deanry, and there married. SCENE Enter Caius. VII. Caius. Ver is mistress Page? by gar, I am cozen'd; I ha' marry'd one garfoon, a boy; one peafant, by gar; a boy; it is not Anne Page; by gar, I am cozen'd. ? Mrs. Page. Why? did you not take her in green Caius. Ay, be gar, and 'tis a boy; be gar, I'll raise all Windfor. Ford. This is ftrange! who hath got the right Anne? Page. My heart mifgives me; here comes Mr. Fenton. Enter Enter Fenton, and Anne Page. How now, Mr. Fenton ? Anne. Pardon, good father; good my mother, pardon. Page. Now, mistress, how chance you went not with Mr. Slender? Mrs. Page. Why went you not with Mr. Doctor, maid? Fent. You do amaze her: Hear the truth of it. Which forced marriage would have brought upon her. Fal. I am glad, tho' you have ta'en a fpecial Stand to ftrike at me, that your arrow hath glanc'd. Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heav'n give thee joy! What cannot be efchew'd, must be embrac'd. Eva. I will alfo dance and eat plums at your Wedding. Fal. When night-dogs run, all forts of deer are chac’d. Mrs. Page. Well, I will mufe no further. Mr. Fenton, Heav'n give you many, many merry days! 8 This speech is taken from the edition of 1619. Mr. Pope. Good |