SCENE III-Windsor Park. Enter Caius and Rugby. Caius. Jack Rugby! Rug. Sir. Caius. Vat is de clock, Jack? Rug. 'Tis past the hour, sir, that sir Hugh promised to meet. Caius. By gar, he has save his soul, dat he is no come; he has come; by gar, Jack his Pible vell, dat he is no Rugby, he is dead already, if he be come. Rug. He is wise, sir: he knew, your worship would kill him, if he came. Caius. By gar, de herring is no dead, so as I vill kill him. Take your rapier, Jack; I vill tell you how I vill kill him. Rug. Alas, sir, I cannot fence. Caius. Villain-a, take your rapier. Rug. Forbear; here's company. Enter Host, Shallow, Slender, and Page. Host. 'Bless thee, bully doctor. Shal. 'Save you, master doctor Caius. Page. Now, good master doctor! Slen. Give you good-morrow, sir. Caius. Vat be all you, one, two, tree, four, come for? Host. To see thee fight, to see thee foin,1 to see thee traverse, to see thee here, to see thee there; to see thee pass thy punto, thy stock, thy reverse, thy distance, thy montant.2 Is he dead, my Ethiopian? is he dead, my Francisco? ha, bully! What says my Esculapius? my Galen? my heart of elder? ha! is he dead, bully Stale? is he dead? Caius. By gar, he is de coward Jack priest of the vorld; he is not show his face. (1) Fence. VOL. I. (2) Terms in fencing. N Host. Thou art a Castilian1 king, Urina!! Hector of Greece, my boy! Caius. I pray you, bear witness that me have stay six or seven, two, tree hours for him, and he is no come. Shal. He is the wiser man master doctor. he is a curer of sculs, and you a curer of bodies; if you should fight, you go against the hair of your professions: is it not true, master Page? Page. Master Shallow, you have yourself been a great fighter, though now a man of peace. Shal. Bodykins, master Page, though I now be old, and of the peace, if I see a sword out, my finger itches to make one: though we are justices, and doctors, and churchmen, master Page, we have some salt of our youth in us; we are the sons of women, master Page. Page. 'Tis true, master Shallow. Shal. It will be found so, master Page. Master doctor Caius, I am come to fetch you home. I am sworn of the peace; you have showed yourself a wise physician, and sir Hugh hath shown himself a wise and patient churchman: you must go with me, master doctor. Host. Pardon, guest justice :--A word, monsieur Muck-water.2 Caius. Muck-vater! vat is dat? Host. Muck-water, in our English tongue, is valour, bully. Caius. By gar, then I have as much muck-vater as de Englishman :-Scurvy jack-dog priest! by gar, me vill cut his ears. Host. He will clapper-claw thee tightly, bully. Caius. Clapper-de-claw! vat is dat? Host. That is, he will make thee amends. Caius. By gar, me do look, he shall clapper-de. claw me; for, by gar, me vill have it. (1) Cant term for Spaniard. (2) Drain of a dunghill. Host. And I will provoke him to't, or let him wag. Caius. Me tank you for dat. Host. And moreover, bully,-But first, master guest, and master Page, and eke cavalero Slender, go you through the town to Frogmore. [Aside to them. Page. Sir Hugh is there, is he? Host. He is there: see what humour he is in; and I will bring the doctor about by the fields: will it do well? Shal. We will do it. Page, Shal. and Slen. Adieu, good master doctor. [Exeunt Page, Shallow, and Slender. Caius. By gar, me vill kill de priest; for he speak for a jack-an-ape to Anne Page. Host. Let him die: but, first, sheath thy impatience; throw cold water on thy choler: go about the fields with me through Frogmore; I will bring thee where Mrs. Anne Page is, at a farm-house a feasting; and thou shalt woo her: Cry'd game, said I well? Caius. By gar, me tank you for dat; by gar, I love you; and I shall procure-a you de good guest, de earl, de knight, de lords, de gentlemen, my patients. Host. For the which, I will be thy adversary towards Anne Page; said I well? Caius. By gar, 'tis good; vell said. Host. Let us wag then. Caius. Come at my heels, Jack Rugby. [Exeunt ACT III. SCENE I-A field near Frogmore. Enter Sir Hugh Evans and Simple. Eva. pray you now, good master Slender serving-man, 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! [Sings. To shallow rivers, to whose falls To shallow Mercy on me! I have a great dispositions to cry. Melodious birds sing madrigals; When as I sat in Pabylon,2 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. (1) Head. (2) Babylon, the first line of the 137th Psalm. 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, inaster parson. Eva. Fery well: what is it? Page. 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. I 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. Slen. O, sweet Anne Page! Shal. It appears so, by his weapons :-Keep them asunder-here comes doctor Ĉaius. |