Her father means she shall be all in white; Fent. Both, my good host, to go along with me: Host. Well, husband your device; I'll to the vicar: ACT V. SCENE I.-A Room in the Garter Inn. Enter Falstaff and Mrs. Quickly. Fal. Pr'ythee, no more prattling :-go. I'll hold: This is the third time; I hope, good luck lies in odd numbers. Away, go; they say, there is divinity in odd numbers, either in nativity, chance, or death.-Away. Quick. I'll provide you a chain: and I'll do what I can to get you a pair of horns. Fal. Away, I say; time wears hold up your head, and mince. [Exit Mrs. Quickly. Enter Ford. How now, master Brock? Master Brook, the Ford. Went you not to her yesterday, sir, as you told me you had appointed? SCENE III.-The Street in Windsor. Enter Mrs. Page, Mrs. Ford, and Dr. Caius. Mrs. Page. Master Doctor, my daughter is in green when you see your time, take her by the hand, away with her to the deanery, and despatch it quickly: Go before into the park; we two must go together. Caius. I know vat I have to do; Adieu. Mrs. Page. Fare you well, sir. [Erit Caius. My husband will not rejoice so much at the abuse of Falstaff, as he will chafe at the doctor's marrying my daughter: but 'tis no matter; better a little chiding, than a great deal of heart-break. Mrs. Ford. Where is Nan now, and her troop of fairies? and the Welch devil, Hugh? Mrs. Page. They are all couched in a pit hard by Herne's oak, with obscured lights; which, at the very instant of Falstaff's and our meeting, they will at once display to the night. Mrs. Ford. That cannot choose but amaze him. Mrs. Page. If he be not amazed, he will be mocked; if he be amazed, he will every way be mocked. Mrs. Ford. We'll betray him finely. Mrs. Page. Against such lewdsters, and their Those that betray them do no treachery. SCENE IV.-Windsor Park. Enter Sir Hugh Evans, and Fairies. Eva. Trib, trib, fairies; come; and remember your parts: be pold, I pray you; follow me into the pit; and when I give the watch-'ords, do as I pid you; Come, come; trib, trib. [Exeunt. SCENE V. Another Part of the Park. Enter Falstaff disguised, with a buck's head on. Fal. The Windsor bell hath struck twelve; the minute draws on: Now, the hot-blooded gods assist me:-Remember, Jove, thou wast a bull for thy Europa; love set on thy horns.- powerful love! that, in some respects, makes a beast a man; in some other, a man a beast.-You were also, Jupiter, Fal. I went to her, master Brook, as you see, a swan, for the love of Leda :-0, omnipotent love! like a poor old man: but I came from her, master how near the god drew to the complexion of a Brook, like a poor old woman. That same knave, goose?-A fault done first in the form of a beast: Ford her husband, hath the finest mad devil of jea--0 Jove, a beastly fault! and then another fault lousy in him, master Brook, that ever governed in the semblance of a fowl; think on't, Jove; a frenzy. I will tell you. He beat me grievously, in foul fault.-When gods have hot backs, what shall the shape of a woman; for in the shape of man, poor men do? For me, I am here a Windsor stag; master Brook, I fear not Goliath with a weaver's and the fattest, I think, i' the forest: Send me a beam; because I know also, life is a shuttle. I am cool rut-time, Jove, or who can blame me to piss in haste; go along with me; I'll tell you all, master my tallow? Who comes here? my doe? Brook. Since I pluck'd geese, play'd truant, and whipp'd top, I knew not what it was to be beaten, till lately. Follow me: I'll tell you strange things. of this knave Ford: on whom to-night I will be revenged, and I will deliver his wife into your hand.Follow: Strange things in hand, master Brook! [Exeunt. follow. SCENE II.-Windsor Park. Enter Page, Shallow, and Slender. Page. Come, come; we'll couch i' the castleditch, till we see the light of our fairies.-Remember, son Slender, my daughter. Slen. Ay, forsooth; I have spoke with her, and we have a nay-word, how to know one another. I come to her in white, and cry, mum: she cries budget and by that we know one another. Shal. That's good too: but what needs either your mum, or her budget? the white will decipher her well enough. It hath struck ten o'clock. Page. The night is dark; light and spirits will become it well. Heaven, prosper our sport! No man means evil but the devil, and we shall know him by his horns. Let's away; follow me. [Exeunt. Enter Mrs. Ford and Mrs. Page. Mrs. Ford. Sir John? art thou there, my deer? my male deer? Fal. My doe with the black scut?-Let the sky rain potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of Green Sleeves hail kissing-comfits, and snow eringoes; let there come a tempest of provocation, I will shelter me here. [Embracing her. Mrs. Ford. Mistress Page is come with me, sweetheart. Fal. Divide me like a bribe-buck, each a haunch: Mrs. Page. Alas! what noise? Enter Sir Hugh Evans, like a satyr: Mrs. Quickly, und Pistol; Anne Page, as the Fairy Queen, attended by her brother and others, dressed like fairies, with waxen tapers on their heads. Quick. Fairies, black, grey, green, and white, You moon-shine revellers, and shades of night, You orphan-heirs of fixed destiny, Attend your office, and your quality. Crier Hobgoblin, make the fairy o-yes. [toys. Pist. Elves, list your names; silence, you airy Cricket to Windsor chimnies shalt thou leap: Where fires thou find'st unrak'd, and hearths unswept, There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry: 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 she sleep, has thrice her prayers said, Search Windsor castle, elves, within and out: And nightly, meadow-fairies, look, you sing, Eva. Pray you, lock hand in hand; yourselves in order set: And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be, Fal. Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy! lest he transform me to a piece of cheese! Pist. Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth. Quick. With trial-fire touch me his finger-end: If he be chaste, the flame will back descend, And turn him to no pain; but if he start, It is the flesh of a corrupted heart. Pist. A trial, come. Eva. Come, will this wood take fire? [They burn him with their tapers. Fal. Oh, oh, oh! Quick. Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire! About him, fairies; sing a scornful rhyme; And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time. Eva. It is right; indeed he is full of lecheries and iniquity. SONG. Fye on sinful fantasy! Kindled with unchaste desire, Fed in heart: whose flames aspire, As thoughts do blow them, higher and highe Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about, Doctor During this song, the fairies pinch Falstaff. Enter Page, Ford, Mrs. Page, and Mrs. Ford. Page. Nay, do not fly; I think, we have watch'd you now: Will none but Herne the hunter serve your turn? Mrs. Page. I pray you, come; hold up the jest no higher : Now, good sir John, how like you Windsor wives? See you these, husband? do not these fair yokes Become the forest better than the town? Ford. Now, sir, who's a cuckold now ?-Master Brook, Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldly knave; here are his horns, master Brook: And, master Brook, he hath enjoyed nothing of Ford's but his buckbasket, his cudgel, and twenty pounds of money; which must be paid to master Brook; his horses are arrested for it, master Brook. Mrs. Ford. Sir John, we have had ill luck; we could never meet. 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 ass. Ford. Ay, and an ox too; both the proofs are extant. Fal. And these are not fairies? I was three or four times in the thought, they were not fairies: and yet the guiltiness of my mind, the sudden surprize of my powers, drove the grossness of the foppery into a received belief, in despite of the teeth of all rhyme 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 Falstaff, serve Got, and leave your desires, and fairies will not pinse you. Ford. Well said, fairy Hugh. Eva. And leave you your jealousies 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 sun, and dried it, that it wants matter to prevent so gross o'erreaching as this? Am I ridden with a Welch goat too? Shall I have a coxcomb of frize? 'Tis time I were choked with a piece of toasted cheese. Eva. Seese is not good to give putter; your pelly is all putter. Fal. Seese and putter! have I lived to stand at the taunt of one that makes fritters of English? This is enough to be the decay of lust and latewalking 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 shoulders, and have given ourselves without scruple to hell, th t ever the devil could have made you our delight? Ford. What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax? Mrs. Page. A puffed man? Page. Old, cold, withered, and of intolerable entrails? Ford. And one that is as slanderous as Satan? Page. And as poor as Job? Ford. And as wicked as his wife? Eva. And given to fornications, and to taverns, and sack, and wine, and metheglins, and to drinkings, and swearings, and starings, pribbles and prabbles? Fal. Well, I am your theme: you have the start of me; I am dejected; I am not able to answer the Welch flannel: ignorance itself is a plummet o'er me: use me as you will. Ford. Marry, sir, we'll bring you to Windsor, to one master Brook, that you have cozened of money, to whom you should have been a pander: over and above that you have suffered, I think, to repay that money will be a biting affliction. Page. Son! how now? how now, son? have you despatched? Slen. I came yonder at Eton to marry mistress Anne Page, and she's a great lubberly boy: If it had not been i' the church, I would have swinged him, or he should have swinged me. If I did not think it had been Anne Page, would I might never stir, and 'tis a post-master's boy. Mrs. Page. Why, did you take her in green? Cuius. Ay, be gar, and 'tis a boy be gar, 1'1 raise all Windsor. [Exit Caius Ford. This is strange: Who hath got the right Anne? Page. My heart misgives me: Here comes master Fenton. Enter Fenton and Anne Page. Anne. Pardon, good father! good my mother Page. Now, mistress? how chance you went not with master Slender? Mrs. Page. Why went you not with master doctor, maid? Fent. You do amaze her: Hear the truth of it. Slen. Despatched!--I'll make the best in Gloces-You would have married her most shamefully, tershire know on't; would I were hanged, la, else. Where there was no proportion held in love. Page. Of what, son? The truth is, she and I, long since contracted, Are now so sure, that nothing can dissolve us. The offence is holy, that she hath committed: And this deceit loses the name of craft, Of disobedience, or unduteous title; Since therein she doth evitate and shun A thousand irreligious cursed hours, Which forced marriage would have brought upon Ford. Stand not amaz'd: here is no remedy:In love, the heavens themselves do guide the state; Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate. Page. Upon my life then you took the wrong. Slen. What need you tell me that? I think so, when I took a boy for a girl: If I had been married to him, for all he was in woman's apparel, I would not have had him. Page. Why, this is your own folly. Did not I tell you, how you should know my daughter by her garments? Slen. I went to her in white, and cry'd mum, and she cry'd budget, as Anne and I had appointed; and yet it was not Anne, but a post-master's boy. Eva. Jeshu! Master Slender, cannot you see but marry boys? Page. Ó, I am vexed at heart: What shall I do? Mrs. Page. Good George, be not angry: I knew of your purpose; turned my daughter into green; and, indeed, she is now with the doctor at the deanery, and there married. Enter Caius. Caius. Vere is mistress Page? By gar, I am cozened; I ha' married un garcon, a boy; un paisan, by gar, a boy; it is not Anne Page: by gar, I am cozened. [her. Fal. I am glad, though you have ta'en a special stand to strike at me, that your arrow hath glanced. Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven give What cannot be eschew'd, must be embrac'd. Eva. I will dance and eat plums at your wedding. Heaven give you many, many merry days! Ford. Let it be so :-Sir John, [Exeunt. O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, Enter Valentine. Val. So please my lord, I might not be admitted, Duke. O, she, that hath a heart of that fine frame, SCENE II.The Sea-coast. Illyria, Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain; Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be; SCENE III.-A Room in Olivia's House. Enter Sir Toby Belch, and Maria.. Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take the death of her brother thus? I am sure, care's an enemy to life. Mar. By my troth, sir Toby, you must come in earlier o'nights; your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours. Sir To. Why, let her except before excepted. Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits of order. Sir To. Confine? I'll confine myself no finer lady.than I am: these clothes are good enough to drink in, and so be these boots too; an they be not, let them hang themselves in their own straps. Vio. And what should I do in Illyria? Cap. It is perchance, that you yourself were saved. (Courage and hope both teaching him the practice) Vio. For saying so, there's gold: As in his name. A noble duke, in nature, Orsino. Vio. Cap. And so is now, Vio. What's she? [her Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count O, that I served that lady : Cap. That were hard to compass; Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo you: I heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a foolish knight, that you brought in one night here, to be her wooer. Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek? Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria. Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a year. Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats; he's a very fool, and a prodigal. Sir To. Fye, that you'll say so! he plays o' the viol-de-gambo, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature. Mar. He hath, indeed,-almost natural: for, besides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; and, but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the prudent, he would quickly have the gift of a grave. Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels, and substractors, that say so of him. Who are they? Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company. Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece; I'll drink to her, as long as there is a passage in my throat, and drink in Illyria: He's a coward, and a coystril, that will not drink to my niece, till his brains turn o' the toe like a parish-top. What, wench? Castiliano-vulgo; for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-face. Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek. Sir A. Sir Toby Belch! how now, sir Toby Belch Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew. Mar. And you too, sir. Sir To. Accost, sir Andrew, accost. Sir And. What's that? Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid. Sir And. Good mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance. Mar. My name is Mary, sir. Sir And. Good mistress Mary Accost, Sir To. You mistake, knight: accost, is, front her, board her, woo her, assail her. Sir And. By my troth, I would not undert ke her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost? Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen. 1 Sir To. No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me Sir To. An thou let part so, sir Andrew, 'would see thee caper: ha! higher: ha, ha!-excellent! thou might'st never draw sword again. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-A Room in the Duke's Pulace. Enter Valentine, and Viola in man's attire. Val. If the duke continue these favours towards Sir And. An you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand? Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand. my hand. Mar. Now, sir, thought is free: I pray you, bring your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink. Sir And. Wherefore, sweet heart? what's your metaphor ? Mar. It's dry, sir. Sir And. Why, I think so; I am not such an ass, but I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest? Mar. A dry jest, sir. Sir And. Are you full of them? Mar. Ay, sir; I have them at my fingers' ends: marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. [Exit Maria. Sir To. O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary: When did I see thee so put down? Sir And. Never in your life, I think; unless you see canary put me down: Methinks sometimes I have no more wit than a Christian, or an ordinary man has but I am a great eater of beef, and, I believe, that does harm to my wit. Sir To. No question. Sir To. Excellent; it hangs like flax on a distaff; and I hope to see a housewife take thee between her legs, and spin it off. Sir And. 'Faith, I'll home to-morrow, Sir Toby: your niece will not be seen; or, if she be, it's four to one she'll none of me: the count himself, here hard by, wooes her. Sir To. She'll none o' the count; she'll not match you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced; he hath known you but three days, and already you are no stranger. Vio. You either fear his humour, or my negli gence, that you call in question the continuance of his love: Is he inconstant, sir, in his favours? Val. No, believe me. Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants. Vio. I thank you. Here comes the count. Duke. Who saw Cesario, ho? Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here. Duke. Stand you awhile aloof.- Cesario, Thou know'st no less but all; I have unclasp'd To thee the book even of my secret soul: Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her; Be not deny'd access, stand at her doors, And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow, Till thou have audience. If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow Dear lad, believe it; I know, thy constellation is right apt I'll do my best, above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; ITo woo your lady yet, [Aside.] a barful strife! have heard her swear it. Tut, there's life in't, man. Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife. [Exeunt. Sir And. I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o' the strangest mind i' the world; I delight in masques and revels sometimes altogether. Sir To. Art thou good at these kick-shaws, knight? Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, under the degree of my betters; and yet I will not compare with an old man. Sir To. What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight? Sir And. 'Faith, I can cut a caper. Sir To. And I can cut the mutton to't. Sir And. And, I think, I have the back-trick, simply as strong as any man in Illyria. Sir To. Wherefore are these things hid? wherefore have these gifts a curtain before them? are they like to take dust, like mistress Mall's picture? why dost thou not go to church in a galliard, and come home in a coranto? My very walk should be a jig; I would not so much as make water, but in sink-a-pace. What dost thou mean? is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was formed under the star of a galliard. Sir And. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a flame-coloured stock. Shall we set about some revels. SCENE V.- A Room in Olivia's House. Enter Maria and Clown. Mar. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open my lips, so wide as a bristle may enter, in way of thy excuse my lady will hang thee for thy absence. Clo. Let her hang me: he, that is well hanged in this world, needs to fear no colours. Mar. Make that good. Clo. He shall see none to fear. Mar. A good lenten answer: I can tell thee where that saying was born, of, I fear no colours. Clo. Where, good mistress Mary? Mar. In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery. Clo. Well, God give them wisdom, that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents. Mar. Yet you will be hanged, for being so long absent: or, to be turned away; is not that as good as a hanging to you? Clo. Many a good hanging prevents a bad mar. riage; and, for turning away, let summer bear it out. Mar. You are resolute then? Clo. Not so neither; but I am resolved on two Sir To. What shall we do else? were we not born points. under Taurus? Sir And. Taurus? that's sides and heart. Mar. That, if one break, the other will hold; or, if both break, your gaskins fail. |