And that my state being gall'd with my expence,
I feek to heal it only by his wealth.
Besides 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: still seek it, Sir;
If opportunity and humblest suit

Cannot attain it, why then-hark you
hark you hither,
[Fenton and Mistress Anne go apart.

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 dismay'd.

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

Quic. Hark ye, Mr. Slender would speak 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 mafter Fenton? pray you, a word with you.

X 4

Shal.

Shal. She's coming; to her, coz. O, boy, thou hadft 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 geefe 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.

Shal. 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 mafter 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, master Slender.

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

Slen. My will? od's heart-lings, that's a pretty jest, 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

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, master 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.

fool.

Anne. Good mother, do not marry me to yon Mrs. Page. I mean it not, I feek you a better hus band.

Quic. That's my master, master Doctor.

7 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 procurefs, 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, so am I affected.

'Till then, farewel, Sir; fhe muft 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 physician? 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 master had miftrefs 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.

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

them

them to a dog for a new-year's gift. The rogues flighted me into the river with as little remorfe as they would have drown'd a bitch's blind puppies, fifteen i'th' litter; and you may know, by my fize, that I' have a kind of alacrity in finking: if the bottom were as deep as hell, I fhould down. I had been drown'd, but that the shore was fhelvy and fhallow; a death that I abhor; for the water fwells a man: and what' a thing should I have been, when I had been swell'd ? I should have been a mountain of mummy.

Enter Bardolph.

Now, is the Sack brew'd?

Bard. Here's Mrs. Quickly, Sir, to fpeak with you. Fal. Come, let me pour in fome fack to the Thameswater; for my belly's as cold as if I had fwallow'd fnow-balls, for pills to cool the reins. Call her in. Bard. Come in, woman.

Quic. By your leave: I cry you mercy. Give your worship good morrow.

Fal. Take

of fack finely.

away thefe challices; go brew me a pottle

Bard. With eggs, Sir?

Fal. Simple of it felf: I'll no pullet-fperm in my brewage. How now ?

Quic. Marry, Sir, I come to your worship from mistress Ford.

Fal. Miftrefs Ford? I have had Ford enough; I was thrown into the Ford; I have my belly full of Ford.

Quic. Alas the day! good heart, that was not her fault: fhe does fo take on with her men; they mistook their erection.

Fal. So did I mine, to build on a foolish woman's promise.