your mafter what good I can; and the very yea and the no is, the French Doctor my mafter, (I may call him my master, look you, for I keep his house, and I wash, wring, brew, bake, fcour, drefs meat, and make the beds, and do all myself).

Sim. 'Tis a great charge to come under one body's hand.

Quic. Are you a-vis'd o' that? you fhall find it a great charge; and to be up early and down late. But notwithstanding, to tell you in your ear, I would have no words of it, my mafter himself is in love with. Mistress Anne Page; but, notwithstanding that, I know Anne's mind, that's neither here nor there.

Gaius. You jack'nape; give-a this letter to Sir Hugh: by gar it is a fhallenge. I villicut his troat in de parke, and I vill teach a fcurvy jack-a-nape priest to meddles or make- You may be gone; it is not good you tarry here; by gar I vill cut all his two ftones; by gar he fhall not have a fone to trow at his dog.

[Exit Simple. Quic. Alas, he speaks but for his friend. Caius. It is no matter' a ver dat: do you not tellame, dat I shall have Anne Page for myself? by gar I vill kill de jack prieft; and I have appointed mine hoft of de Jarterre to measure our weapon; by gar I vill myself have Anne Page.

Quic. Sir, the maid loves you, and all shall be well: we must give folks leave to prate; what, the good-jer ! Caius. Rugby, come to the court with me.- -By gar, if I have not Anne Page, I fhall turn your head out of my door : follow my heels, Rugby.

[Exeunt Caius and Rugby. Quic. You fhall have An fool's-head of your own. No, I know Anne's mind for that; never a woman in Windfor knows more of Anne's mind than I do, nor can do more than I do with her, I thank heav'n.

Fent. [within] Who's within there, hoa?

Quis. Who's there, I trow? come near the house, I pray you.

SCENE XI. Enter Mr. Fenton. Fent. How now, good woman, how doft thou?

Quic. The better that it pleases your good Worship to alk.

Fent. What news? how does pretty Mistress Anne?

Quic. In truth, Sir, and fhe is pretty, and honest, and gentle; and one that is your friend, I can tell you that by the way, I praife heav'n for it.

Fent. Shall I do any good, think'st thou? shall I not lose my fuit ?

Quic. Troth, Sir, all is in his hands above, but notwithstanding, Mafter Fenton, I'll be fworn on a book The loves you. Have not your worship a wart above

your eye?

Fent. Yes, marry, have I; and what of that?

Quic. Well, thereby hangs a tale; good faith, it is fuch another Nan; but, I deteft, an honest maid as ever broke bread; we had an hour's talk of that wart. I fhall never laugh but in that maid's company! but indeed fhe is given too much to allicholly and musing; but for you

-Well

go to

Fent. Well, I fhall fee her to-day; hold, there's money for thee: let me have thy voice in my behalf. If thou feeft her before me, commend me

Quic. Will I ay, faith, that we will; and I will tell your Worship more of the wart, the next time we have confidence, and of other wooers.

Fent. Well, farewel; I am in great hafte now.

[Exit. Quic. Farewel to your Worship. Truly, an honest gentleman, but Anne loves him not. I know Anne's mind as well as another does. Out upon't, what have I forgot? [Exit.

A CT II.

Mrs. Page.

SCENE I.

Before Page's house.

Enter Mrs. Page, with a letter.

Hat, have I fcap'd love-letters in the holy-day-time of my beauty, and am

I now a fubject for them? let me fee.

Afk me no reason, why I love you; for tho' love ufe rea

Bb 2

fon for his precifian, he admits him not for his counfellor. You are not young, no more am 1; go to then, there's fympathy: you are merry, fo am I; ha! ha! then there's more fympathy: you love fack, and fo do I; would you defire better fympathy? Let it fuffice thee, Mistress Page, at the leaft if the love of a foldier can fuffice, that I Love thee. I will not fay, Pity me, 'tis not a foldier-like phrafe; but I fay, Love me.

By me, thine own true Knight, by day or night,
Or any kind of light, with all his might,

For thee to fight.

John Falstaff. What a Herod of Jewry is this? O wicked, wicked world! one that is well nigh worn to pieces with age, to show himself a young gallant! what unweigh'd behaviour hath this Flemish drunkard pick'd, i' th devil's name, out of my converfation, that he dares in this manner affay me? Why, he hath not been thrice in my company; what fhould I fay to him? I was then frugal of my mirth, heav'n forgive me; why, I'll exhibit a bill in the parliament for the putting down of mum *; how fhall I be revenge'd on him for revenge'd I will be, as fure as his guts are made of puddings.

:

SCENE II. Enter Mrs. Ford.

Mrs. Ford. Mrs. Page, trust me, I was going to your

houfe.

Mrs. Page. And truft me, I was coming to you; look very ill.

you

Mrs. Ford Nay, I'll never believe that; I have to fhew to the contrary.

Mrs. Page. 'Faith, but you do, in my mind.

Mrs. Ford Well, I do then: yet I fay, I could fhew you to the contrary. O Mitreis Page, give me fome counfel.

Mrs. Page. What's the matter, woman!

A fattening liquor much in ufe among the Flemings, as fhe had called him a Flemish arunkard a tew lines before; and it is to be obferved, that, abou the time when this play was written, there were on foot feveral bils in parliament for refraining the ufe of ftros liquors. fuppreffing the multitude of malifters, and the great brewing ef ftrong beer, and regulating inns, taverns, and alehouses.

Mrs.

Mrs. Ford. O woman! if it were not for one trifling refpect, I could come to fuch honour.

Mrs. Page. Hang the trifle, woman, take the honour; what is it difpenfe with trifles; what is it?

Mrs. Ford. If I would but go to hell for an eternal moment, or fo, I could be knighted.

Mrs. Page. What, thou lyeft? Sir Alice Ford! thefe Knights will lack, and fo thou shouldit not alter the article of thy gentry.

Mrs. Ford. We burn day-light; here, read, read; perceive how I might be knighted: I fhall think the worfe of fat men, as long as I have an eye to makę difference of mens liking; and yet he would not fwear; prais'd womens modefty; and gave fuch orderly and well behav'd reproof to all uncomelinefs, that I would have fworn his difpofition would have gone to the truth of his words; but they do no more adhere, and keep place together, than the hundredth Pfalm to the tune of Green fleeves. What tempeft, I trow, threw this whale, with fo many tun of oil in his belly, aihore at Windfor? how fhall I be revenge'd on him? I think the best way were to entertain him with hope, till the wicked fire of luft have melted him in his own grease. Did you ever hear the like?

Mrs. Page. Letter for letter, but that the name of Page and Ford differs. To thy great comfort in this mystery of ill opinions, here's the twin-brother of thy letter; but let thine inherit first, for, I proteit, mine never fhall. I warrant, he has a thousand of thefe letters, writ with blank fpace for different names; nay more; and these are of the fecond edition: he will print them out of doubt, for he cares not whaẹ he puts into the prefs, when he would put us two I had rather be a giantefs, and lie under mount Pelion. Well, I will find you twenty lafcivious turtles, ere onę chafte man.

Mrs. Ford. Why, this is the very fame, the very hand, the very words; what doth he think of us?

Mrs. Page. Nay, I know not; it makes me almost ready to wrangle with mine own honefty. I'll entertain myself like one that I am not acquainted withal; fer, fure, unless he knew fome ftrain in me, that i know

not

not myself, he would never have boarded me in this fury.

Mrs. Ford. Boarding, call it you? I'll be fure to keep him above deck.

Mrs. Page. So will I; if he come under my hatches, I'll never to fea again. Let's be revenge'd on him; let's appoint him a meeting, give him a thow of comfort in his fuit, and lead him on with a fine baited delay, till he hath pawn'd his horfes to mine Hoft of the Garter.

Mrs. Ford. Nay, I will confent to act any villany against him, that may not fully the charinefs of our honefty. Oh, that my husband faw this letter! it would give eternal food to his jealoufy.

Mrs. Page. Why, look, where he comes, and my good man too; he's as far from jealousy, as I am from giving him caufe; and that, I hope, is an unmeasurable distance.

Mrs. Ford. You are the happier woman.

Mrs. Page. Let's confult together against this greafy Knight. Come hither. [They retire.

Enter Ford with Piftol, Page with Nym.

Ford. Well, I hope, it be not so.

Pift. Hope is a curtail-dog in fome affairs.

Sir John affects thy wife.

Ford. Why, Sir, my wife is not young.

Pift. He wooes both high and low, both rich and

poor,

Both young and old, one with another, Ford;
He loves thy gally-mawfry, Ford, perpend.
Ford. Love my wife?

Pift. With liver burning hot: prevent, or go thou, like Sir Acteon, he, with Ring-wood at thy heels-0, odious is the name.

Ford. What name, Sir?

Pift. The horn, I fay: farewel.

Take heed, have open eye; for thieves do foot by

night.

Take heed ere fummer comes, or cuckoo-birds a

fright.

Away,