Mrs. Ford. Mrs. Page. Away, away [The women run out. Fal. I think the devil will not have me damn'd, lest the oil that is in me fhould fet hell on fire; he never would elfe crois me thus. Enter Sir Hugh like a Satyr; Quickly, and others, dreft like Fairies, with tapers. Quic. Fairies, black, gray, green, and white, Attend your office, and your quality. Eva Elves, lift your names; filence, you airy toys. [die. Fal. They're Fairies; he that fpeaks to them thall I'll wink and couch; no man their works must eye. [Lies down upon his face. Eva. Where's Pede? go you, and where you find a maid, That ere the fleep hath thrice her prayers faid, Sleep the as found as careless infancy; But thofe that fleep, and think not on their fins, Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, fhoulders, fides, and fhins. Quic. About, about; Search Wind for castle, elves, within, and out. The feveral chairs of order look you fcour, VOL. I. And And nightly-meadow-fairies, look, you fing, Like to the garter-compafs, in a ring: Th' expreffure that it bears, green let it be, In emrold-tuffs, flow'rs purfled, blue and white, Eva. Pray you, lock hand in hand, yourselves in order fet: And twenty glow-worms fhall our lanthorns be, Fal. Heav'ns defend me from that Welch Fairy, lest he transform me to a piece of cheese! Eva. Vild worm, thou waft o'erlook'd ev'n in thy birth. Quic. With trial-fire touch me his finger-end; Eva. A trial, come. [They burn him with their tapers, and pinch him. Come, with this wood take fire. Fal. Oh, oh, oh! Quic. Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in defire; About him, Fairies, fing a fcornful rhime; And, as you trip, ftill pinch him to your time. Eva. It is right, indeed, he is full of lecheries and iniquity.. Fie on finful phantafy, Fie on luft and luxury! Kindled with unchafte defire, Fed in heart, whofe flames afpire, As thoughts to blow them, higher and higher. Pinch him, Fairies, mutually; Pinch him for his villany. Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about, During this fong, they pinch him. Doctor Caius comes one way, and steals away a boy in green; Slender another way, and he takes away a boy in white; and Fenton comes and fieals away Mrs. Anne Page. A noife of hunting is made within. All the Fairies run away. Falstaff pulls off his buck's head, and rifes. Enter Page, Ford, &c. They lay hold on him. Page. Nay, do not fly; I think, we've watch'd you now; Will none but Herne the hunter ferve your turn? Mrs. Page. I pray you, come; hold up the jeft no higher. Now, good Sir John, how like you Windfor wives? See you thefe, hufbands? do not these fair yokes Become the foreft better than the town? Ford. Now, Sir, who's a cuckold now? Mr. Brook, Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldly knave; here are his horns, Mafter Brook; and, Mafter Brook, he hath enjoy'd nothing of Ford's but his buck-basket, his cudgel, and twenty pounds of money, which must be paid to Master Brook; his horfes are arrested for it, Mafter Brook. never meet. Mrs. Ford. Sir John, we have had ill luck; we could I will never take you for my love again, but I will always count you my deer. Fal. I do begin to perceive that I am made an afs. Ford. Ay, and an ox too: both the proofs are ex tant. Fal. And thefe are not Fairies? I was three or four times in the thought, they were not Fairies; and yet the quiltinefs of my mind, the fudden furprife of my powers, drove the groffnefs of the foppery into a receiv'd belief, in defpight of the teeth of all rhime and reason, that they were Fairies. See now, how wit may be made a jack a-lent, when 'tis upon ill employment? Eva. Sir John Falitaff, ferve Got, and leave your defires. and Fairies will not pinse you. Fordell faid, fairy Hugh. Eva And leave you your jealoufies too, I pray you. Ford I will never mistrust my wife again, till thou art able to woo her in good English Fal Have I laid my brain in the fun and dry'd it, that it wants matter to prevent fo grofs o'er-reaching as this am ridden with a Welch goat too? Shall I have a coxcomb of frize' 'tis time I were choak'd with a piece of toasted cheese. Eva eele is not good to give putter; your pelly is all putter. Fal Seefe and putter? have I liv'd to stand in the taunt of one, that makes fritters of English? this is enough to be the decay of luft and late-walking through the realm. Mrs. Page. Why, Sir John, do you think, though we would have thrust virtue out of our hearts by the head and fhoulders, and have given ourselves without fcruple to hell, that ever the devil could have made you our delight? Ford What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax? Page. Old, cold, wither'd, and of intolerable entrails? Ford. And one that is as flanderous as Satan? Ford. And as wicked as his wife? Eva. And given to fornications, and to taverns, and facks, and wines, and metheglins; and to drinkings, and fwearings, and starings, pribbles and prabbles? Fal. Well, I am your theme; you have the tart of I am dejected; I am not able to answer the Welch flannel; ignorance it felf is a plummet o'er me; ufe me as you will. me; Ford. Marry, Sir, we'll bring you to Windfor to one Mr. Brook, that you have cozen'd of money, to whom you fhould have been a pander: over and above that, you you have fuffer'd, I think, to repay that money will be a biting affliction. Mrs. Ford. Nay, husband, let that go to make a mends: Forgive that fum, and fo we'll all be friends. Ford. Well, here's my hand: all's forgiven at last. Page. Yet be chearful, Knight; thou shalt eat a poffet to-night at my houfe, where I will defire thee to laugh at my wife, that now laughs at thee. her, Mr. Slender hath marry'd her daughter. Tell my Mrs. Page. Doctors doubt that; if Anne Page be daughter, the is, by this, Doctor Caius's wife. [Afide. SCENE VI. Enter Slender. Slen. What hoe! hoe! father Page. Page. Son, how now? how now, fon, have you dispatch'd? Slen. Difpatch'd? I'll make the best in Gloucefterfhire known on't; would i were hang'd la, elfe. Page. Of what, fon? Slen. I came yonder at Eaton to marry Mistress Anne Page, and fhe's a great lubberly boy. If it had not been i' th' church, I would have fwinge'd him, or he fhould have fwinge'd me. If I did not think it had been Anne Page, would I might never tir, and 'tis a post-master's boy. Page. Upon my life, then you took the wrong. Slen. What need you tell me that? I think fo, when I took a boy for a girl: if I had been marry'd to him, for all he was in woman's apparel, I would not have had him. Did not I tell Page. Why, this is your own folly. you, how you fhould know my daughter by her gar ments? Slen. I went to her in white, and cry'd Mum, and fhe cry'd Budget, as Anne and I had appointed; and yet it was not Anne, but a poft-master's boy. Eva. Jefhu! Mafter Slender, cannot you fee but marry boys? Page O, I am vex'd at heart. What fhall I do? Mrs. Page. Good George, be not angry; I knew of your purpofe, turn'd my daughter into green, and in deed |