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:goods 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 shall never laugh but in that mail's company! but, indeed, fhe is given too much to atlicholly and mufing but for you -Wellgo tō } ›

Fent. Well, I fhall fee her to day; hold, there's mony for thee: let me have thy voice in my behalf; if thou feeft her before me, commend me 20

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 woers.

Fen. Well, farewel, I am in great hafte now. [Exit. Quic. Farewel to your worship. Truly, an honeft gentleman, but Anne loves him not; I know Anne's mind as well as another does. Out upon't, what have I forgot? [Exit.

3

W

A CT II.

SCENE, before Page's Houfe.

Enter Mrs. Page, with a Letter

Mrs. PAGE.

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:

Ask me no reason, why I love you; for the love use reafon for his precifior, he admits him not for his counsellor you are not young, no more am I; 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, miflrefs Page, at

the

the least if the love of a foldier can fuffice, that I love thee. I will not fay, pity me, 'tis not a foldier-like phrase ; 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. Hiss a 1-

John Falstaff.

aasba, jud 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 beha viour hath this Flemish drunkard pickt, 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 should I fay to him? I was then frugal of my mirth, heav'n forgive me: why, I'll exhibit (8) a bill in the Parliament for the putting down of fat men: how shall I be reveng❜d on him? for reveng'd I will be, as fure as his guts are made of puddings.

Enter Mrs. Ford.

Mrs. Ford. Mrs. Page, truft me, I was going to your house.

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

Mrs. Ford. Nay, I'll ne'er believe that; I have to fhew to the contrary.

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

(8) a bill in the Parliament for the putting down of Men :] What, Mrs. Page, put down the whole Species Unus ob noxam, for a fingle Offender's Trefpafs? Don't be fo unreafonable in your Anger. But 'tis a falfe Charge against you. I am per fuaded, a fhort Monofyllable is dropt out, which, once restored, would qualify the Matter. We must neceffarily read, for the putting down of fat Men.- Mrs. Ford fays in the very enfuing Scene, I shall think the worfe of fat Men, as long as I bave an Eye, &c. And in the old Quarto's, Mrs. Page, fo foon as he has read the Letter, fays, Well, I fall truft fat Men the worse, while I live, for bis fake: And he is called, the fat Knight, the greafy Knight, by the Women, throughout the Play.

Mrs.

Mrs. Ford. Well, I do then; yet I fay, I could fhew you to the contrary: O mistress Page, give me some

counsel.

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

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

!

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 lieft! Sir Alice Ford! these Knights will hack, and fo thou fhouldit not alter the article of thy gentry.

Mrs. Ford. We burn day-light; here, read, read ; perceive how I might be knighted: Ifhall think the worfe of fat men, as long as I have an eye to make dif. ference of men's liking; and yet he would not fwear; prais'd women's modefty; and gave fuck orderly and well-behaved reproof to all uncomeliness, that I would have fworn his disposition would have gone to the truth of his words; but they do no more adhere, and keep pláce together, than the hundred Pfalm to the tune of Grea Sleeves. What tempelt, I trow, threw this whale, with fo many tun of oil in his belly, a-hore at Windfor? how hall I be reveng'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 greafe. Did you ever hear the like?

*།

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

Mrs.

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 myfelf like one that I am not acquainted withal; for, fure, unless he knew fome Stain in me, that I know not myfelf, 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 T; if he come under my hatches, T41 never to fea again. Let's be reveng❜d on him; let's. appoint him a meeting, give him a show of comfort in bis fuit, and lead him on with a fine baited delay, till he hath pawn'd his horses to mine Hoft of the Garter.

Mrs. Ford. Nay, I will confent to act any villany! againft him, that may not fully the chariness of our honefty: oh, that my husband faw this letter it would give him 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 unmeafurable diftance.

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 fo..

Pift. Hope is a curtal dog in fome affairs.

Sir John affects thy wife.

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

Piff. 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 heels0, odious is the name.

Ford. What name, Sir?

Hift. The horn, I fay: farewel.

Take

Take heed, have open eye; for thieves do foot by night. Take heed ere fummer comes, or cuckoo-birds affright. 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 Faiftoff loves your wife. Adieu; I love not the humour of bread and cheese: 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.

པཝ་ཟླ་

F

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

Page. I will not believe fuch a Cataian, tho' the priest o'th town commended him for a true man. Ford. "Twas a good fenfible fellow: well, s

1

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, gr.

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 dinner, George? Look, who comes yonder: fhe fhall be our meffenger to this paultry Knight.

Enter Miftrefs Quickly.

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