Away, Sir Corporal Nym,-
Believe it, Page, he speaks fenfe,

[Exit Piftol. Ford. I will be patient; I will find out this.

Nym. And this is true: I like not the humour of lying; he hath wrong'd me in fome humours: I should have borne the humour'd letter to her; but I have a fword, and it fhall bite-upon my neceffity, he loves your wife; there's the fhort and the long. My name is Corporal Nym; I fpeak, and I avouch, 'tis true: my name is Nym, and Falstaff loves your wife. Adieu; I love not the humour of bread and cheefe : adieu. [Exit Nym. Page. The humour of it, quoth a'! here's a fellow frights humour out of its wits.

Ford. I will feek out Falstaff.

Page. I never heard fuch a drawling, affecting rogue. Ford. If I do find it: well.

Page. I will not believe such a Cataian, tho' the priest o' th' town commended him for a true man.

Ford. 'Twas a good fenfible fellow: well.

Mrs. Page and Mrs. Ford come forwards.

Page. How now, Meg?

Mrs. Page. Whither go you, George? hark you. Mrs. Ford How now, fweet Frank, why art thou melancholy?

Ford. I melancholy! I am not melancholy. Get you home, go.

Mrs. Ford. Faith, thou haft fome crotchets in thy head. Now, will you go, Miftrefs Page!

Mrs. Page. Have with you.

You'll come to din-.

ner, George? Look, who comes yonder; the fhall be our mellenger to this paulty Knight.

Enter Mistress Quickly.

Mrs. Ford. Trust me, I thought on her fhe'll fit it. Mrs. Page. You are come to fee my daughter Anne? Quick. Ay, forfooth; and, I pray, how does good Miftrefs Anne?

Mrs.

Mrs. Page. Go in with us, and fee; we have an hour's talk with you.

[Exeunt Mrs. Page, Mrs. Ford, and Mrs. Quickly.

SCENE

Page. How now, Master Ford ?

V.

Ford. You heard what this knave told me, did you not?

Page. Yes; and you heard what the other told me? Ford. Do you think there is truth in them?

Page. Hang 'em, flaves; I do not think, the Knight would offer it; but thefe that accufe him in his intent towards our wives, are a yoke of his difcarded men ; · very rogues, now they be out of fervice.

Ford. Were they his men?

Page. Marry, were they.

Ford. I like it never the better for that. Does he lie at the Garter?

Page. Ay, marry, does he. If he should intend his. voyage towards my wife, I would turn her loose to him; and what he gets more of her than sharp words, let it lie on my head.

Ford. I do not mifdoubt my wife, but I would be loth to turn them together; a man may be too confident; I would have nothing lie on my head; I cannot be thus fatisfy'd.

Page. Look, where my ranting Hoft of the Garter comes; there is either liquor in his pate, or money in his purfe, when he looks fo merrily. How now, mine Hoft?

SCENE VI. Enter Hoft and Shallow.

Hoft. How now, bully Rock? thou'rt a gentleman; cavaliero-juftice, I fay.

Shal. I follow, mine Hoft, I follow. Good even, and twenty, good Mafter Page Master Page, will you go with us? we have sport in hand.

Hoft. Tell him, cavaliero-juftice; tell him, bully Rock.

Shal. Sir, there is a fray to be fought between Sir Hugh the Welch priest, and Caius the French doctor.

Ford. Good mine Hoft o' th' Garter, a word with you.

Hoft. What fay'ft thou, bully Rock?

Shal. Will you go with us to behold it? my merry Hoft hath had the measuring of their weapons, and, I think, he hath appointed them contrary places; for, believe me, I hear the Parfon is no jefter. Hark, I will tell you what our sport fhall be.

Hoft. Haft thou no fuit against my Knight, my guest❤ cavalier?

Ford. None, I proteft; but I'll give you a pottle of burnt fack to give me recourfe to him, and tell him my name is Brook; only for a jeft.

Hoft My hand, bully: thou fhalt have egrefs and regrefs; faid I well? and thy name fhall be Brook. It is a merry knight. Will you go on, heris?

Shal. Have with you, mine Hoft.

Page. I have heard the Frenchman hath good skill in his rapier.

In

Shal" Tut, Sir, I could have told you more. "there times you stand on distance, your paffes, stoc "cado's, and I know not what: 'tis the heart, Maiter Page; 'tis here, 'tis here. I have feen the time; "with my long fword, I would have made you four " tall fellows fkip like rats.

Hoft. Here, boys, here, here: fhall we wag? Pa Page. Have with you: I had rather hear them fcold than fight. [Exeunt Hoit, shallow, and Page. Ford. Though Page be a fecure fool, and ftand fo firmly on his wife's frailty, yet I cannot put off my opinion fo eafily. She was in his company at Page's houfe; and what they made there, I know not. Well, I will look further into't; and have a disguise to found Falftaff if I find her honest, I lofe not my labour; if fhe be otherwife, 'tis labour well bestow'd.

:

[Exit.

SCENE VII. Changes to the Garter-Inn.

- Enter Falstaff and Piftol.

Fal. I will not lend thee a penny.

Pift. Why then the world's mine oifter, which I with fword will open-I will retort the fum in equi

page.

VOL, I.

!

Fal. Not a penny. I have been content, Sir, you fhould lay my countenance to pawn; I have grated upon my good friends for three reprieves for you, and your couch fellow, Nym; or elfe you had look'd through the grate like a geminy of baboons. I am damn'd in hell for fwearing to gentlemen, my friends, you were good foldiers, and tall fellows. And when Mistress Bridget loit the handle of her fan, I took't upon mine honour, thou hadst it not.

Pift. Didft thou not fhare? hadft thou not fifteen pence?

Fal. Reafon, you rogue, reafon: think'ft thou I'll endanger my foul gratis? At a word, hang no more about me, I am no gibbet for you go, a fhort knife and a thong, to your manour of Pickt-hatch * ; go, you'll not bear a letter for me, you rogue! You stand upon your honour! why, thou unconfinable basenefs, it is as much as I can do to keep the term of mine honour precife. I, I, I myself fometimes, leaving the fear of Heaven on the left hand, and hiding mine honour in my neceffity, am fain to fhuffle, to hedge, and to lurch; and yet you rogue will enfconfe your rags, your cat-a-mountain looks, your red-lettice phrases, and your bold-bearing oaths, under the fhelter of your honour! You will not do it, you!

Pift. I do relent; what wouldst thou more of man?

Enter Robin.

Rob. Sir, here's a woman would speak with you.
Fal. Let her approach.

SCENE VIII. Enter Miftrefs Quickly.

Quic. Give your Worfhip good morrow.
Fal Good morrow, good wife.

Quic. Not fo, an't please your Worship.

Fal Good maid, then.

Quic. I'll be fworn, as my mother was the first hour
I was born.

Fal. I do believe the fwearer: what with me?
Quic. Shall I vouchfafe your Worfhip a word or two?

A noted harbour for thieves and pick-pockets.

Fal.

Fal. Two thousand, fair woman, and I'll vouchsafe thee the hearing.

Quic There is one Mistress Ford, Sir: I pray, comé a little nearer this ways: I myself dwell with Mr. Doctor Caius.

Fal. Well, on: Miftrefs Ford, you fay

Quic. Your Worship fays very true : I pray your Worship, come a little nearer this ways.

Fal. I warrant thee, no body hears: mine own people, mine own people.

Quic. Are they fo? Heav'n bless them, and make them his fervants!

Fal. Well: Mistress Ford,

what of her?

Quic. Why, Sir, fhe's a good creature. Lord, Lord, your Worship's a wanton: well, Heav'n forgive you, and all of us, I pray

Fal. Miftrefs Ford,

:

come, Miftrefs Ford-

Quic. Marry, this is the fhort and the long of it; you have brought her into such a canaries, as 'tis wonderful the best courtier of them all, when the court lay at Windfor, could never have brought her to fuch a canary. Yet there has been knights, and lords, and gentlemen, with their coaches; I warrant you, coach after coach, letter after letter, gift after gift, fmelling fo fweetly; all mufk; and fo rufsling, I warrant you, in filk and gold, and in fuch alligant terms, and in fuch wine and fugar of the best, and the fairest, that would have won any woman's heart; and, I warrant you, they could never get an eye-wink of her. I had myself twenty angels given me this morning; but I defy all angels, in any fuch fort as they fay, but in the way of honefty; and I warrant you, they could never get her fo much as fip on a cup with the proudest of them all: and yet there has been Earls; nay, which is more, penfioners; but, I warrant you, all is one with her.

Fal. But what fays fhe to me? be brief, my good The Mercury.

Quic. Marry, fhe hath receiv'd your letter, for the which fhe thanks you a thousand times; and she gives you to notify, that her husband will be abfence from his houfe between ten and eleven.

Fal. Ten and eleven.

Cc z

Quis.