Anne. The dinner is on the table; my father defires your worships' company. Shal. I will wait on him, fair miftrefs Anne. Eva. Od's pleffed will! I will not be abfence at the grace. [Exeunt SHALLOW, and Sir H. EVANS. Anne. Will't please your worship to come in, fir? Slen. No, I thank you, forfooth, heartily; I am very well. Anne. The dinner attends you, fir. Slen. I am not a-hungry, I thank you, forfooth :-Go, firrah, for all you are my man, go, wait upon my cousin Shallow. [Exit SIMPLE.] A juftice of peace fometimes may be beholden to his friend for a man:-I keep but three men and a boy yet, till my mother be dead: But what though? yet I live like a poor gentleman born. Anne. I may not go in without your worship: they will not fit till you come. Slen. I'faith, I'll eat nothing; I thank you as much as though I did. Anne. I pray you, fir, walk in. Slen. I had rather walk here, I thank you: I bruis'd my fhin the other day with playing at fword and dagger with a master of fence, three veneys for a difh of stew'd prunes; and, by my troth, I cannot abide the smell of hot meat since. Why do your dogs bark fo? be there bears i'the town? Anne. I think there are, fir; I heard them talk'd of. Slen. I love the fport well; but I fhall as foon quarrel at it, as any man in England:-You are afraid if you see the bear loofe, are you not? Anne. Ay, indeed, fir. Slen. That's meat and drink to me, now: have seen Sackerfon loose twenty times; and have taken him by the chain: but, I warrant you, the women have fo cried and shriek'd at it, that it pafs'd :—but women, indeed, cannot abide 'em; they are very ill-favour'd rough things. Re-enter PAGE. Page. Come, gentle mafter Slender, come; we stay for you. Slen. I'll eat nothing; I thank you, fir. Page. By cock and pye, you shall not choose, fir: come, come. Slen. Nay, pray you, lead the way. Page. Come on, fir. Slen. Mistress Anne, yourself shall go first. Anne. Not I, fir; pray you keep on. Slen. Truly, I will not go first; truly, la: I will not do you that wrong. Anne. I pray you, fir. Slen. I'll rather be unmannerly than troublefome: you do yourself wrong, indeed, la. SCENE II. The fame. Enter Sir HUGH EVANS and SIMPLE. [Exeunt. Eva. Go your ways, and ask of Doctor Caius' houfe, which is the way: and there dwells one mistress Quickly, which is in the manner of his nurse, or his dry nurse, or his cook, or his laundry, his wather, and his wringer. Simp. Well, fir. Eva. Nay, it is petter yet:-give her this letter; for it is a 'oman that altogether's acquaintance with mistress Anne Page; and the letter is, to defire and require her to folicit your master's defires to Mrs. Anne Page: I pray you, be gone; I will make an end of my dinner; there's pippins and cheese to come. [Exeunt. SCENE III. A Room in the Garter Inn. Enter FALSTAFF, HOST, BARDOLPH, NYM, PISTOL, and ROBIN. Fal. Mine hoft of the Garter, Hoft. What fays my bully-rook? Speak fchollarly, and wifely. Fal. Truly, mine hoft, I must turn away fome of my followers. Hoft. Difcard, bully Hercules; cashier: let them wag; trot, trot. Fal. I fit at ten pounds a week. Hoft. Thou'rt an emperor, Cæfar, Keifar, and Pheezar. I will entertain Bardolph; he shall draw, he fhall tap: faid I well, bully Hector? Fal. Do fo, good mine host. Hoft. I have fpoke! let him follow: let me fee thee froth, and lime: I am at a word, follow. [Exit HOST. Fal. Bardolph, follow him; a tapfter is a good trade: An old cloak makes a new jerkin; a withered ferving-man a fresh tapster: Go; adieu. Bard. It is a life that I have defired; I will thrive. [Exit BARD. Pift. O base Gongarian wight! wilt thou the spigot wield? Nym. He was gotten in drink: Is not the humour conceited? His mind is not heroick, and there's the humour of it. Fal. Fal. I am glad I am fo acquit of this tinderbox: his thefts were too open: his filching was like an unskilful finger, he kept not time. Nym. The good humour is, to fteal at a minute's reft. Pift. Convey, the wife it call: Steal! foh; a fico for the phrafe. Fal. Well, firs, I am almoft out at heels. Pift. Why then, let kibes enfue. Fal. There is no remedy; I muft coney-catch; I must fhift. Pift. Young ravens must have food. Fal. Which of you know Ford, of this town? Pift. I ken the wight; he is of fubftance good. Fal. My honeft lads, I will tell you what I am about. Pift. Two yards, and more. Fal. No quips now, Pistol: Indeed I am in the waift two yards about: but I am now about no wafte; I am about thrift. Briefly, I do mean to make love to Ford's wife; I spy entertainment in her; fhe difcourfes, the carves, the gives the leer of invitation: I can conftrue the action of her familiar style; and the hardest voice of her behaviour, to be English'd rightly, is, I am fir John Falstaff's. Pift. He hath study'd 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, fhe has all the rule of her husband's purfe; the hath legions of angels. Pift. As many devils entertain; and, To her, boy, fay I. Nym. The humour rifes; 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, examin'd my parts with moft judicious eyliads: fometimes the the beam of her view gilded my foot, fometimes my portly belly. Pift. Then did the fun on dung-hill shine. Nym. I thank thee for that humour. Fal. O, fhe did fo course o'er my exteriors with fuch a greedy intention, that the appetite of her eye did feem to fcorch me up like a burning glafs! Here's another letter to her: fhe bears the purse to; fhe is a region in Guiana, all gold and bounty. I will be cheater to them both, and they shall be exchequers to me; they shall be my East and Weft 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. Pift. Shall I fir Pandarus of Troy become, And by my fide wear steel? then, Lucifer, take all ! Rogues, hence, avaunt! vanish like hail-stones, go; French thrift, you rogues; myself, and skirted page. holds, And high and low beguile the rich and poor: Tester I'll have in pouch, when thou shalt lack, Bafe Phrygian Turk! Nym. I have operations in my head, which be humours of revenge. Pift. Wilt thou revenge? Nym. By welkin, and her star! Pift. With wit, or feel? Nym. |