SCENE 1.

A Field near FROGMORE.

Enter Sir HUGH EVANS and SIMPLE.

Eva. I pray you now, good master Slender's servingman, and friend Simple by your name, which way have you looked for master Caius, that calls himself Doctor of Physic?

Sim. Marry, sir, the city-ward, the park-ward, every way; Old Windsor way, and every way but the town

way.

Eva. I most fehemently desire you, you will also look that way.

Sim. I will, sir.

Eva. 'Pless my soul! how full of cholers I am, and trempling of mind!-I shall be glad, if he have deceived me:-how melancholies I am!-I will knog his urinals about his knave's costard, when I have good opportunities for the 'ork:-'pless my soul!

To shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals;

[Sings.

There will we make our peds of roses,
And a thousand fragrant posies.

To shallow

Mercy on me! I have a great dispositions to cry.
Melodious birds sing madrigals;—

When as I sat in Pabylon,

And a thousand fragrant posies.
To shallow-

Sim. Yonder he is coming, this way, Sir Hugh.
Eva. He's welcome :-

To shallow rivers, to whose falls

Heaven prosper the right!-What weapons is he? Sim. No weapons, sir: There comes my master, master Shallow, and another gentleman from Frogmore, over the stile, this way.

Eva. Pray you, give me my gown; or else keep it in your arms.

Enter PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLEnder.

Shal. How now, master parson? Good-morrow, good Sir Hugh, Keep a gamester from the dice, and a good student from his book, and it is wonderful.

Slen. Ah, sweet Anne Page!

Page. Save you, good Sir Hugh!

Eva. 'Pless you from his mercy sake, all of you! Shal. What! the sword and the world! do you study them both, master parson?

"

Page. And youthful still, in your doublet and hose, this raw rheumatic day?

Eva. There is reasons and causes for it.

Page. We are come to you, to do a good office, master parson.

Eva. Fery well: what is it?

Puge. Yonder is a most reverend gentleman, who belike, having received wrong by some person, is at most odds with his own gravity and patience, that ever you saw.

Shal. I have lived fourscore years and upward; I

never heard a man of his place, gravity, and learning, so wide of his own respect.

Eva. What is he?

Page. think you know him; master doctor Caius, the renowned French physician.

Eva. Got's will, and his passion of my heart! I had as lief you would tell me of a mess of porridge. Page. Why?

Eva. He has no more knowledge in Hibocrates and Galen, and he is a knave besides; a cowardly knave, as you would desires to be acquainted withal.

Page. I warrant you, he's the man should fight with him.

Shal. O, sweet Anne Page!

Slen. It appears so, by his weapons:-Keep them asunder;-here comes doctor Caius.

Enter HOST, CAIUS, and RUGBY.

Page. Nay, good master parson, keep in your weapon. Shal. So do you, good master doctor.

Host. Disarm them, and let them question; let them keep their limbs whole, and hack our English.

Caius. I pray you, let-a me speak a word vit your ear: Verefore vill you not meet-a me?

Eva. Pray you, use your patience: In good time. Caius. By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog, John

ape.

Eva. Pray you, let us not be laughing-stogs to other men's humours; I desire you in friendship, and I will one way or other make you amends:-I will knog your urinals about your knave's cogscomb, for missing your meetings and appointments.

Caius. Diable! Jack Rugby,-mine Host de Jarterre, have I not stay for him, to kill him? have I not, at de place I did appoint?

Eva. As I am a Christians soul, now, look you, this is the place appointed; I'll be judgment by mine host of the Garter.

Host. Peace, I say, Guallia and Gaul, French and Welsh; soul-curer and body-curer.

Caius. Ay, dat is very good! excellent!

Host. Peace, I say; hear mine host of the Garter. Am I politic? am I subtle? am I a Machiavel? Shall I lose my doctor? no; he gives me the potions, and the motions. Shall I lose my parson? my priest? my Sir Hugh? no; he gives me the proverbs and the no-verbs.

Give me thy hand, terrestrial; so:-Give me thy hand, celestial; so.- -Boys of art, I have deceived you both; I have directed you to wrong places: your hearts are mighty, your skins are whole, and let burnt sack be the issue. Come, lay their swords to pawn:Follow me, lad of peace; follow, follow, follow. Shal. Trust me, a mad host:-Follow, gentlemen, follow.

Slen. O, sweet Anne Page!

[Exeunt Shal. Slen. Page, and Høst. Caius. Ha! do I perceive dat? have you make a de sot of us? ha, ha!

Eva. This is well; he has made us his vlouting-stog. -I desire you, that we may be friends; and let us knog our prains together, to be revenge on this same scall, scurvy, cogging companion, the host of the Garter.

Caius. By gar, vit all my heart; he promise to bring me vere is Anne Page: by gar, he deceive me too. Eva. Well, I will smite his noddles :-Pray you, follow. [Exeunt.

SCENE 11. The Street in WINDSOR.

Enter Mrs. PAGE and ROBIN.

Mrs. Page. Nay, keep your way, little gallant; you were wont to be a follower, but now you are a leader : Whether had you rather, lead mine eyes, or eye your master's heels?

Rob. I had rather, forsooth, go before you like a man, than follow him like a dwarf.

Mrs. Page. O you are a flattering boy; now, I see, you'll be a courtier.

Enter FORD.

Ford. Well met, mistress Page: Whither go you?

Mrs. Page. Truly, sir, to see your wife: Is she at home?

Ford. Ay; and as idle as she may hang together, for want of company: I think, if your husbands were dead, you two would marry.

Mrs. Page. Be sure of that,- -two other husbands.

Ford. Where had you this pretty weather-cock? Mrs. Page. I cannot tell what the dickens his name is my husband had him of: What do you call your knight's 's name, sirrah?

Rob. Sir John Falstaff.
Ford. Sir John Falstaff!

Mrs. Page. He, he: I can never hit on's name. There is such a league between my good man and he! Is your wife at home, indeed?

Ford. Indeed, she is.

Mrs. Page. By your leave, sir;-I am sick, till I see her. [Exeunt Mrs. Page and Robin. Ford. Has Page any brains? hath he any eyes? hath he any thinking? Sure, they sleep; he hath no use of them. Why, this boy will carry a letter twenty miles, as easy as a cannon will shoot point-blank twelve score. He pieces-out his wife's inclination; he gives her folly motion, and advantage: and now she's going to my wife, and Falstaff's boy with her. A man may hear this shower sing in the wind!-and Falstaff's boy with her!-Good plots!-they are laid; and our revolted wives share damnation together. Well; I will take him, then torture my wife, pluck the borrowed veil of modesty from the so seeming mistress Page, divulge Page himself for a secure and wilful Actæon; and to these voilent proceedings all my neighbours shall cry aim. [Clock strikes.] The clock gives me my cue, and my assurance bids me search; there I shall find Falstaff: I shall be rather praised for this, than mocked; for it is as positive as the earth is firm, that Falstaff is there I will go.

:

Enter PAGE, SHALLOW, SLENDER, HOST, Sir HUGH EVANS, CAIUS, and RUGBY.

Shal. Page, &c. Well met, master Ford...