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; or, I protest, mine 80 never shall. I warrant he hath a thousand of these letters, writ with blank space for different names,-sure, more, and these are of the second edition: he will print them, out of doubt; for he cares not what he puts into the press, when he would put us two. I had rather be a giantess, and lie under Mount Pelion. Well, I will find you twenty lascivious turtles ere one chaste man.

Mrs. Ford. Why, this is the very same; the 90 very hand, the very words. What doth he think of us?

Mrs. Page. Nay, I know not: it makes me al

most ready to wrangle with mine own hon-
esty. I'll entertain myself like one that
I am not acquainted withal; for, sure, un-
less he know some strain in me, that I know
not myself, he would never have boarded me
in this fury.

Mrs. Ford. 'Boarding,' call you it? I'll be 100 sure to keep him above deck.

Mrs. Page. So will I: if he come under my hatches, I'll never to sea again. Let's be revenged on him: let's appoint him a meeting; give him a show of comfort in his suit,

and lead him on with a fine-baited delay,
till he hath pawned his horses to mine host of
the Garter.

Mrs. Ford. Nay, I will consent to act any villainy against him, that may not sully the 110 chariness of our honesty. O, that my husband saw this letter! it would give eternal food to his jealousy.

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

Mrs. Ford. You are the happier woman.
Mrs. Page. Let's consult together against this
greasy knight. Come hither. [They retire. 120
Enter Ford, with Pistol, and Page, with Nym.
Ford. Well, I hope it be not so.

Pist. Hope is a curtal dog in some affairs:
Sir John affects thy wife.

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

Pist. He woos both high and low, both rich and poor,

Both young and old, one with another, Ford;
He loves the gallimaufry: Ford, perpend.

Ford. Love my wife!

Pist. With liver burning hot. Prevent, or go thou, Like Sir Actæon he, with Ringwood at thy

heels:

127. "perpend"; i. e. consider.-H. N. H.

130

129. The "liver" was anciently supposed to be the seat of the amorous passions.-H. N. H.

130. "Like Sir Actœon he," etc.; make him like Actæon, who (in the shape of a stag) was hunted to death by hounds.-C. H. H.

O, odious is the name!

Ford. What name, sir?

Pist. The horn, I say. Farewell.

Take heed; have open eye; for thieves do foot by night:

Take heed, ere summer comes, or cuckoo-birds

do sing.

Away, Sir Corporal Nym!—

Believe it, Page; he speaks sense.

[Exit.

Ford. [Aside] I will be patient; I will find out

this.

Nym. [To Page] And this is true; I like not 140

the humor of lying. He hath wronged me in some humors: I should have borne the humored letter to her; but I have a sword, and it shall bite upon my necessity. He loves your wife; there's the short and the long. My name is Corporal Nym; I speak, and I avouch: 'tis true: my name is Nym, and Falstaff loves your wife. Adieu. I love not the humor of bread and cheese; and there's the humor of it. Adieu. [Exit. 150 Page. "The humor of it,' quoth 'a! here's a fellow frights English out of his wits.

Ford. I will seek out Falstaff.

Page. I never heard such a drawling, affecting rogue.

Ford. If I do find it:-well.

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

Ford. 'Twas a good sensible fellow:-well.

160

Page. How now, Meg!

[Mrs. Page and Mrs. Ford come forward. Mrs. Page. Whither go you, George? Hark

you.

Mrs. Ford. How now, sweet Frank! why art
thou melancholy?

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

Mrs. Ford. Faith, thou hast some crotchets in

thy head. Now, will you go, Mistress Page? Mrs. Page. Have with you. You'll come to 170 dinner, George? [Aside to Mrs. Ford] Look who comes yonder: she shall be our messenger to this paltry knight.

Mrs. Ford. [Aside to Mrs. Page] Trust me, I thought on her: she 'll fit it.

Enter Mistress Quickly.

Mrs. Page. You are come to see my daughter
Anne?

Quick. Aye, forsooth; and, I pray, how does
good Mistress Anne?

Mrs. Page. Go in with us and see: we have an 180 hour's talk with you.

[Exeunt Mrs. Page, Mrs. Ford, and Mrs. Quickly. Page. How now, Master Ford!

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, slaves! I do not think the

knight would offer it: but these that accuse

him in his intent towards our wives are a 190
yoke of his discarded men; very rogues, now
they be out of service.

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. Aye, marry, does he. If he should in

tend this voyage toward my wife, I would
turn her loose to him; and what he gets more
of her than sharp words, let it lie on my 200
head.

Ford. I do not misdoubt my wife; but I would
be loath to turn them together. A man may
be too confident: I would have nothing lie
on my head: I cannot be thus satisfied.
Page. Look where my ranting host of the Gar-
ter comes: there is either liquor in his pate,
or money in his purse, when he looks so
merrily.

Enter Host.

How now, mine host!

Host. How now, bully-rook! thou 'rt a gentle-
Cavaleiro-justice, I say!

man.

Enter Shallow.

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

191. "yoke"; pair.—C. H. H.

210