תמונות בעמוד
PDF
ePub

Quic. What, John Rugby! John!

Rug. Here, Sir.

Caius. You are John Rugby, and you are Jack Rugby; come, take-a your rapier, and come after my

the court.

Rug. 'Tis ready, Sir, here in the porch.

heel to

Gaius. By my trot, I tarry too long: od's me: Que ay je oublié? dere is fome fimples in my clofet, dat I will not for the varld I shall leave behind.

Quic. Ay-me, he'll find the young man there, and

be mad.

Caius. O diable, diable! vat is in my clofet? villaine, Larron! Rugby, my rapier. [Pulls Simple out of the closet. Quic. Good mafter, be content.

Caius. Wherefore fhall I be content-a?

Quic. The young man is an honest man.

Caius. What fhall de honeft man do in my closet ? dere is no honeft man, dat fhall come in my closet. Quic. I beseech you, be not fo flegmatick; hear the truth of it. He came of an errand to me from parfon Hugh.

Caius. Vell.

Sim. Ay, forfooth, to defire her to

Quic. Peace, I pray you.

Caius. Peace-a your tongue, fpeak-a your tale. Sim. To defire this honeft gentlewoman, your maid, to fpeak a good word to mistress Ann Page for my mafter in the way of marriage.

Quic. This is all, indeed-la; but I'll ne'er put my finger in the fire, and need not.

Caius. Sir Hugh fend-a you? Rugby, (10) baillez me fome paper; tarry you a little-a-while.

(10) Ballow me fome paper;] Thus all the editions hitherto : and, I fuppofe, the Editors thought this a defign'd corruption of the word borrow. But are we to imagine the Poet's doctor had not a scrap of paper in his houfe, but muft send out to borrow fome? As Caius is reprefented a Frenchman, and generally fpeaks half French, half Englib, it is much more probable to believe, our Author wrote, baillez me fome paper, i. e. fetch, bring, give me fome, So the French fay, baillez la main, give me your hand; bailler, une ocillade, to give one the wink, &c.

Quic. I am glad, he is fo quiet; if he had been thoroughly moved, you should have heard him fo loud, and fo melancholy: but notwithstanding, man, I'll do for your matter what good 1 can; and the very yea and the no is, the French doctor my mafter, (I may call him my mafter, look you, for I keep his houfe, and I wath, wring, brew, bake, fcour, dress meat and drink, make the beds, and do all myfelf.)

Simp. 'Tis a great charge to come under one body's hand.

Quic. Are you a-vis'd o'that? you fhall find it a great charge; and to be up early and down late. But notwithstanding, to tell you in your ear, I would have no words of it, my mafter himfelf is in love with miftrefs Ann Page; but, notwithstanding that, I know Ann's mind, that's neither here nor there.

Caius. You jack'nape; give a this letter to Sir Hugh; by gar, it is a fhallenge: I will cut his troat in de parke, and I will teach a fcurvy jack-a-nape prieft to meddle or make you may be gone; it is not good you tarry here; by gar, I will cut all his two ftones; by gar he fhall not have a ftone to trow at his dog.

I

[Exit Simple. Quic. Alas, he speaks but for his friend. Caius. It is no matter'a ver dat: do you not tell-ame, dat I fhall have Ann Page for myfelf? by gar, vill kill de jack prieft; and I have appointed mine hoft of de Farterre to measure our weapon; by gar, will myself have Ann Page.

Quic. Sir, the maid loves you, and all fhall be well: we must give folks leave to prate; what, the good-jer! Caius. Rugby, come to the court with me;-by gar, if I have not Ann Page, I fhall turn your head out of my door; -follow my heels, Rugby.

[Exe. Caius and Rugby. Quic. You fhall have An fools-head of your own. No, I know Ann's mind for that; never a woman in Windfor knows more of Ann's mind than I do, nor can do more than I do with her, I thank heav'n. Fent. [within.] Who's within there, hoa?

I

[ocr errors]

Quic. Who's there, I trow? come near the house, I pray you.

Enter Mr. Fenton.

Fent. How now, good woman, how doft thou? Quic. The better, that it pleafes your good worship to ask.

Fent. What news? how does pretty mistress Ann?

Quic. In truth, Sir, and fhe is pretty, and honest, and gentle; and one that is your friend, I can tell you that by the way, I praise heav'n for it.

Fent. Shall I do any good, think'ft thou? shall I not lofe my fuit?

Quic. Troth, Sir, all is in his hands above; but notwithstanding, mafter Fenton, I'll be fworn on a book, 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; good faith, it is fuch another Nan; but, I deteft, an honeft maid as ever broke bread; we had an hour's talk of that wart: I fhall never laugh but in that maid's company! but, indeed, fhe is given too much to allicholly and mufing; but for you Wellgo to

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

tell

Quic. Will I? ay, faith, that we will: and I will your worship more of the wart, the next time we have confidence, and of other wooers.

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

[Exit.

ACT

[blocks in formation]

SCENE, before Page's House.

Enter Mrs. Page, with a letter.

Mrs. PAGE.

HAT, have I 'fcap'd love-letters in the holy

W 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 tho' love ufe reafon for his precisian, 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 so do I; would you defire better fympathy? let it fuffice thee, miftrefs Page, at the leaft 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,
John Falstaff."

For thee to fight.

What a Herod of Fury is this? O wicked, wicked world! one that is well nigh worn to pieces with age, to fhów himself a young gallant! what unweigh'd behaviour 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 (11) a bill in the parliament for the putting down of fat

(11) — a bill in the parliament for the putting down of men :] What, Mrs. Page, put down the whole fpecies unius ob nexam, for a fingle

offender's

fat men: how fhall 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. Miftrefs Page, truft me, I was going to your house.

Mrs. Page. And truft 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.

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

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

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

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! thefe Knights will hack, and fo thou fhouldft not alter the article of thy gentry.

Mrs. Ford. We burn day-light; here, read, read; perceive, how I might be knighted: I fhall think the worfe of fat men, as long as I have an eye to make difference of men's liking; and yet he would not fwear; prais'd women's modefty; and gave fuch orderly and well-behaved reproof to all uncomeliness, that I would have fworn his difpofition would have

We

offender's trefpafs? Don't be fo unreasonable in your anger. But 'tis a falfe charge against you. I am perfuaded, a fhort monofyllable is dropt out, which, once reftor'd, would qualify the matter. muft neceffarily read,-for the putting dan of fat men-Mrs. Ford fays in the very enfuine feene, I fhall 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 she has read the letter, fays, Well, I shall truft fat men the worse, while Ilue, for his fake: And he is call'd, the fat Knight, the greafy Knight, by the women, throughout the Play.

gone

« הקודםהמשך »