The Complete Works of Shakespeare. William Shakespeare

      Slen. And so must I, sir. We have appointed to dine with Mistress Anne, and I would not break with her for more money than I’ll speak of.

      Shal. We have linger’d about a match between Anne Page and my cousin Slender, and this day we shall have our answer.

      Slen. I hope I have your good will, father Page.

      Page. You have, Master Slender, I stand wholly for you; but my wife, Master Doctor, is for you altogether.

      Caius. Ay, be-gar, and de maid is love-a me. My nursh-a Quickly tell me so mush.

      Host. What say you to young Master Fenton? He capers, he dances, he has eyes of youth; he writes verses, he speaks holiday, he smells April and May—he will carry’t, he will carry’t—’tis in his buttons—he will carry’t.

      Page. Not by my consent, I promise you. The gentleman is of no having. He kept company with the wild Prince and Poins; he is of too high a region, he knows too much. No, he shall not knit a knot in his fortunes with the finger of my substance. If he take her, let him take her simply. The wealth I have waits on my consent, and my consent goes not that way.

      Ford. I beseech you heartily, some of you go home with me to dinner. Besides your cheer, you shall have sport; I will show you a monster. Master Doctor, you shall go, so shall you, Master Page, and you, Sir Hugh.

      Shal. Well, fare you well. We shall have the freer wooing at Master Page’s.

       [Exeunt Shallow and Slender.]

      Caius. Go home, John Rugby, I come anon.

       [Exit Rugby.]

      Host. Farewell, my hearts. I will to my honest knight Falstaff, and drink canary with him.

       [Exit.]

      Ford [Aside.] I think I shall drink in pipe-wine first with him; I’ll make him dance.—Will you go, gentles?

      All. Have with you to see this monster.

       Exeunt.

       ¶

Scene III

       Enter Mistress Ford, Mistress Page.

      Mrs. Ford. What, John! What, Robert!

      Mrs. Page. Quickly, quickly! Is the buck-basket—

      Mrs. Ford. I warrant. What, Robin, I say!

       [Enter] Servants [with a great buck-basket].

      Mrs. Page. Come, come, come.

      Mrs. Ford. Here, set it down.

      Mrs. Page. Give your men the charge, we must be brief.

      Mrs. Ford. Marry, as I told you before, John and Robert, be ready here hard by in the brew-house, and when I suddenly call you, come forth, and (without any pause or staggering) take this basket on your shoulders. That done, trudge with it in all haste, and carry it among the whitsters in Datchet- mead, and there empty it in the muddy ditch close by the Thames side.

      Mrs. Page. You will do it?

      Mrs. Ford. I ha’ told them over and over, they lack no direction. Be gone, and come when you are call’d.

       [Exeunt Servants.]

      Mrs. Page. Here comes little Robin.

       [Enter] Robin.

      Mrs. Ford. How now, my eyas-musket, what news with you?

      Rob. My master, Sir John, is come in at your back door, Mistress Ford, and requests your company.

      Mrs. Page. You little Jack-a-Lent, have you been true to us?

      Rob. Ay, I’ll be sworn. My master knows not of your being here, and hath threat’ned to put me into everlasting liberty if I tell you of it; for he swears he’ll turn me away.

      Mrs. Page. Thou’rt a good boy. This secrecy of thine shall be a tailor to thee, and shall make thee a new doublet and hose. I’ll go hide me.

      Mrs. Ford. Do so. Go tell thy master I am alone. [Exit Robin.] Mistress Page, remember you your cue.

      Mrs. Page. I warrant thee, if I do not act it, hiss me.

       [Exit.]

      Mrs. Ford. Go to then. We’ll use this unwholesome humidity, this gross wat’ry pumpion. We’ll teach him to know turtles from jays.

       [Enter] Falstaff.

      Fal. “Have I caught thee, my heavenly jewel?” Why, now let me die, for I have liv’d long enough. This is the period of my ambition. O this blessed hour!

      Mrs. Ford. O sweet Sir John!

      Fal. Mistress Ford, I cannot cog, I cannot prate, Mistress Ford. Now shall I sin in my wish: I would thy husband were dead. I’ll speak it before the best lord, I would make thee my lady.

      Mrs. Ford. I your lady, Sir John? Alas, I should be a pitiful lady!

      Fal. Let the court of France show me such another. I see how thine eye would emulate the diamond. Thou hast the right arch’d beauty of the brow that becomes the ship-tire, the tire-valiant, or any tire of Venetian admittance.

      Mrs. Ford. A plain kerchief, Sir John. My brows become nothing else, nor that well neither.

      Fal. [By the Lord,] thou art a tyrant to say so. Thou wouldst make an absolute courtier, and the firm fixture of thy foot would give an excellent motion to thy gait in a semicircled farthingale. I see what thou wert, if Fortune thy foe were not, Nature thy friend. Come, thou canst not hide it.

      Mrs. Ford. Believe me, there’s no such thing in me.

      Fal. What made me love thee? Let that persuade thee there’s something extraordinary in thee. Come, I cannot cog and say thou art this and that, like a many of these lisping hawthorn buds, that come like women in men’s apparel, and smell like Bucklersbury in simple time—I cannot; but I love thee, none but thee; and thou deserv’st it.

      Mrs. Ford. Do not betray me, sir. I fear you love Mistress Page.

      Fal. Thou mightst as well say I love to walk by the Counter-gate, which is as hateful to me as the reek of a lime-kill.

      Mrs. Ford. Well, heaven knows how I love you, and you shall one day find it.

      Fal. Keep in that mind, I’ll deserve it.

      Mrs. Ford. Nay, I must tell you, so you do; or else I could not be in that mind.

       [Enter Robin.]

      Rob. Mistress Ford, Mistress Ford! here’s Mistress Page at the door, sweating, and blowing, and looking wildly, and would needs speak with you presently.

      Fal. She shall not see me, I will ensconce me behind the arras.

      Mrs. Ford. Pray you do so, she’s a very tattling woman.

       [Falstaff stands behind the arras.]

       [Enter Mistress Page.]

      What’s the matter? How now?

      Mrs. Page. O Mistress Ford, what have you done? You’re sham’d, y’ are overthrown, y’ are undone for ever!

      Mrs. Ford. What’s the matter, good Mistress Page?

      Mrs. Page.