Fent. No, Heav'n fo speed me in my time to come! Albeit, I will confefs, thy father's wealth Was the first motive that I woo'd thee, Anne: That now I aim at. Anne. Gentle Mr. Fenton, Yet feek my father's love ftill feek it, Sir: Cannot attain it, why then hark you hither. [Fenton and Mistress Anne go apart. Enter Shallow, Slender, and Mistress Quickly. Shal. Break their talk, Mistress Quickly; my kinfman fhall fpeak for himself. Slen. I'll make a fhaft or a bolt on't: d'slid, 'tis but venturing. Shal. Be not dismay'd. Slen. No, the fhall not difmay me: I care not for that, but that I am affeard. Quic. Hark ye, Mr. Slender would speak a word with you. Anne I come to him.-This is my father's choice. O, what a world of vile ill-favour'd faults Look handfome in three hundred pounds a-year! Quic. And how does good Malter Fenton? pray you, a word with you. Shal. She's coming; to her, coz. hadft a father! O, boy, thou Sler. I had a father, Mrs. Anne; my uncle can tell you good jets of him. Pray you, uncle, tell Mrs. Anne the jest, how my father ftole two geefe out of a pen, good uncle. Shal. Miflrefs Anne, my coufin loves you. Slen. Ay, that I do, as well as I love any woman in Gloucefterfhire. Shal. He will maintain you like a gentlewoman. Slen. Ay, that will, come cut and long-tail, under the degree of a fquire. I Shal. Shal. He will make you a hundred and fifty pounds jointure. Anne. Good Mafter Shallow, let him woo for himfelf. Shal. Marry, I thank you for it; I thank you for that. Good comfort; fhe calls you, coz: I'll leave you. Anne. Now, Mafter Slender. Slen. Now, good Mistress Anne. Slen. My will? od's heart-lings, that's a pretty jeft indeed, I ne'er made my will yet, I thank Heav'n; I am not fuch a fickly creature. I give Heav'n praise. Anne. I mean, Mr. Slender, what would you with me? Slen. Truly, for my own part, I would little or nothing with you; your father and my uncle have made motions; if it be my luck, fo; if not, happy man be his dole! they can tell you how things go better than I can; you may ask your father; here he comes. SCENE XIV. Enter Page, and Miftrefs Page. Page. Now, Mafter Slender: love him, daughter Anne. -Why, how now? what does Mr. Fenton here? You wrong me, Sir, thus ftill to haunt my houfe: I told you, Sir, my daughter is difpos'd of. Fent. Nay, Mafter Page, be not impatient. Mrs. Page. Good Master Fenton come not to my child. Page. She is no match for you. Fent. Sir, will you hear me? Come, Mafter Shallow: come, fon Slender, in. [Exeunt Page, Shallow, and Slender. Quic. Speak to Mistress Page. Fent. Good Miftrefs Page, for that I love your daughter In fuch a righteous fashion as I do, Perforce against all checks, rebukes, and manners, And not retire. Let me have your good-will. VOL. I. Ff Anne. Anne. Good mother, do not marry me to yon fool. Mrs. Page. I mean it not, I feek you a better husband. Quic. That's my mafter, Master Doctor. Anne. Alas, I had rather be fet quick i' th' earth. Quic. And bowl'd to death with turnips.. Mrs. Page. Come, trouble not yourself; good Mafter Fenton, I will not be your friend nor enemy; My daughter will I queftion how the loves you, Till then, farewel, Sir; fhe must needs go in. Quic. This is my doing now. Nay, faid I, will you caft away your child on a fool, and a phyfician? look on Malter Fenton: this is my doing. Fent. I thank thee; and I pray thee, once to-night Give my fweet Nan this ring: there's for thy pains. [Exit. Quic. Now Heav'n send thee good fortune! A kind heart he hath, a woman would run through fire and water for fuch a kind heart. But yet I would my mafter had Mistress Anne, or I would Mr. Slender had her; or, in footh, I would Mr. Fenton had her. I will do what I can for them all three, for fo I have promis'd; and I'll be as good as my word, but fpecioufly for Mr. Fenton. Well, I muft of another errand to Sir John Falftaff from my two mistreffes; what a beaft am I to flack it. [Exit, SCENE XV. Changes to the Garter-inn. Enter Falftaff and Bardolph. Fal. Bardolph, I fay. Bard. Here, Sir. Fal. Go fetch me a quart of fack; put a toast in't. [Exit Bard.] Have I liv'd to be carry'd in a basket, like a barrow of butchers' offal, and to be thrown into the Thames? Well, if I be ferv'd fuch another trick, I'll have my brains ta'en out, and butter'd, and give them to a dog for a new-year's gift. The rogues flighted me into the river with as little remorfe as they would have drown'd a bitches blind puppies, fifteen i' th' litter; and you may know, by my fize, that I have a kind of alacrity in finking: if the bottom were as deep as hell, I should down. I had been drown'd, but that the fhore was shelvy and fhallow; a death that I abhor; for the water fwells a man: and what a thing fhould I have been when I had been fwell'd? I fhould have been a mountain of mummy. Enter Bardolph. Now, is the fack brew'd? Bard. Here's Mr. Quickly, Sir, to speak with you. Fal. Come, let me pour in fome fack to the Thameswater; for my belly's as cold as if I had fwallow'd fnow-balls for pills to cool the reins. Call her in. Bard. Come in, woman. SCENE XVI. Enter Mrs. Quickly. Quic. By your leave: I cry you mercy. Give your Worship good morrow. Fal. Take away these challices; go brew me a pottle of fack finely. Bard. With eggs, Sir? Fal. Simple of itfelf: I'll no pullet-fperm in my brewage. How now? Quic. Marry, Sir, I come to your Worship from Miftrefs Ford. Fal. Mistress Ford? I have had Ford enough; I was thrown into the Ford; I have my belly-full of Ford. Quic. Alas the day! good heart, that was not her fault: fhe does fo take on with her men; they mistook their erection. Fal. So did I mine, to build on a foolish woman's promife. Quic. Well, fhe laments, Sir, for it, that it would yern your heart to see it. Her husband goes this morning a-birding; fhe defires you once more to come to her between eight and nine. I must carry her word quickly; fhe'll make you amends, I warrant you, Fal. Well, I will vifit her; tell her fo, and bid her think what a man is: let her confider his frailty, and then judge of my merit. Ff2 Quic. Quic. I will tell her. Fal. Do fo. Between nine and ten, fay'ft thou? Quic. Eight and nine, Sir. Fal. Well, be gone; I will not mifs her. Quic. Peace be with you, Sir. [Exit. Fal. I marvel I hear not of Mafter Brook; he fent me word to stay within: I like his money well. Oh, here he comes. SCENE XVII. Enter Ford. Ford. Bless your, Sir. Fal. Now, Mafter Brook, you come to know what hath pafs'd between me and Ford's wife. Ford. That indeed, Sir John, is my bufinefs. Fal. Mafter Brook, I will not lye to you; I was at her house the hour fhe appointed me. Ford. And you'fped, Sir? Fal. Very ill-favour'dly, Mafter Brook. Ford. How, Sir, did fhe change her determination? Fal. No, Master Brook; but the peaking cornuto her husband, Mafter Brook, dwelling in a continual larum of jealoufy, comes me in the inftant of our encounter; after we had embrace'd, kifs'd, protefted, and, as it were, fpoke the prologue of our comedy; and at his heels a rabble of his companions, thither provok'd and inftigated by his distemper, and, forfooth, to fearch his house for his wife's love. Ford. What, while you was there? Fal. While I was there. Ford. And did he search for you, and could not find you? Ford. You fhall hear. As good luck would have it, comes in one Miftrefs Page, gives intelligence of Ford's approach, and by her invention, and Ford's wife's di-rection, they convey'd me into a buck-basket. Ford. A buck-basket? Fal. Yea, a buck-basket; ramm'd me in with foul fhirts and fmocks, focks, foul ftockings, and greafy napkins; that, Mafter Brook, there was the rankelt "compound of villanous fmell, that ever offended notril. Ford. And how long lay you there? Fal. |