Caius. Mock-vater? vat is dat ? Hoft. Mock-water, in our English tongue, is valour, bully. Caius. By gar, then I have as much mock-vater as de Englishman, fcurvy-jack-dog-prieft; by gar, me vill cut his ears. Hoft. He will clapper-claw thee tightly, bully. Hoft. That is, he will make thee amends. Caius. By gar, me do look, he fhall clapper-de-claw me; for by gar, me vill have it. Hoft. And I will provoke him to't, or let him wag. Hoft. And morcover, bully: but firft, Mr. Gueft, and Mr. Page, and eek Cavalierò Slender, go you through the town to Frogmore. Page. Sir Hugh is there, is he? Hoft. He is there; fee, what humour he is in; and I will bring the Doctor about the fields: will it do well? Shal. We will do it. il. Adieu, good Mr. Doctor, [Exe. Page, Shal. and Slen. Caius. By gar, me vill kill de priest; for he speak for a jack-an-ape to Ann Page. Heft. Let him die; but, firft, fheath thy impatience; throw cold water on thy choler; go about the fields with ine through Frogmore; I will bring thee where Miftrefs Ann Page is, at a farm-houfe a feafting; and thou fhalt woo her. (17) Try'd game, faid I well? Caius. By gar, me tank you vor dat: by gar, I love you; and I hall procure 'a you de good gueft; de Earl, de Knight, de Lords, de Gentlemen, my patients. game. (17) And thou foalt woo her. Cride-Game.] Thus the old folio's. The quarto's with a little difference. And thou shalt wear her cry'd Said I well? Neither of the readings furnish any idea; nor can be genuine. Try'd game, as I have reftor'd it, may well fignity, Thou old cock of the game; thou experienced finner and might be reasonably apply'd to Caius, who was an old bachelor, and had dame Quickly for his housekeeper. Hot Hoft. For the which I will be thy adverfary toward Ann Page: faid I well? Caius. By gar, 'tis good; vell faid. Caius. Come at my heels, Jack Rugby. [Exeunt. I SCENE, Frogmore near Windsor. Enter Evans, and Simple. EVANS. Pray you now, good Maller Slender's fervingman, and friend Simple by your name, which way have you look'd for Mafter Caius, that calls himfelf Doctor of Phyfic? Smp. Marry, Sir, the Pitty-avary, the Park-ward, every way, old Windfor way, and every way but the town way. Eva. I moft fehemently defire you, you will also. look that way. Simp. I will, Sir. Eva. 'Plefs my foul, how full of chollars I am, and trempling of mind! I fhall be glad, if he have deceiv'd me; how melanchollies I am! I will knog h ́s urinals about his knave's coftard, when I have good opportunities for the orke: 'Plefs my foul! [Sings, being afraid By fhallow rivers, to whofe falls (18) Melodious birds fing madrigalls ; (18) By fhallow rivers,] The flanza, which Sir Hugh repeats here, is part of a fweet little fonnet of our Author's, and printed among his poems, called, The Pafficnate Shepherd to his Love. MILTON was lo enamour'd with this poem, and the Nymph's Reply to it, that he has borrow'd the clofe of his. L' Alegory, and Il Penferofo from. I don't know, whether it has been generally obferv'd, but its with wonderful humour, in his finging, that Sir Hugh intermixes with his madrigal the first line of the 137th finging pfalm. them There There will we make our peds of roses; By ballow'Mercy on me, I have a great difpofitions to cry. Melodious birds fing madrigalls I fat in Pabilon ;· By fellow, &c. When as and a thousand vagrant pifies.- Simp. Yonder he is coming, this way, Sir Hugh. Eva. He's welcome. By fhallow rivers, to whofe falls. Heav'n profper the right; what weapons is he? Simp. No weapons, Sir; there comes my mafter, Mr. Shallow, and another Gentleman from Frogmore, over the ftile, this way. in Eva. Pray you, give me my gown, or elfe keep it your arms. Enter Page, Shallow, and Slender. Shal. How now, master Parfon ? good morrow, good Sir Hugh. Keep a gamefter from the dice, and a good ftudent from his book, and it is wonderful. Slen. Ah, fweet Ann Page! Page. Save you, good Sir Hugh. Eva. 'Plefs you from his mercy fake, all of you. Shal. What the fword and the word? do you study. them both, Mr. Parfon ? Page. And youthful ftill, in your doublet and hofe, this raw-rheumatick day? Eva. There is reafons and caufes for it. Page. We are come to you, to do a good office, Mr. Parfon. Eva. Ferry well: what is it? Page. Yonder is a most reverend Gentleman, who, belike, having receiv'd wrong by fome perfon, is at most odds with his own gravity and patience, that ever you faw. Shal. I have liv'd fourfcore years, and upward; I never heard a man of his place, gravity and learning, fo wide of his own refpcct. Eva. What is hę? Page. Page. I think, you know him; Mr. Doctor Cains, the renowned French phyfician. Eva. Got's will, and his paffion of my heart! I had as lief you fhould tell me of a mess of porridge. Page. Why? Eva. He has no more knowledge in Hibocrates and Galen; and he is a knave, befides; a cowardly knave as you would defire to be acquainted withal. Page. I warrant you, he's the man should fight with. him. Slen. O, fweet Ann Page! Enter Hoft, Caius, and Rugby. Shal. It appears fo, by his weapons: keep them afunder; here comes Doctor Caius. Page. Nay, good Mr. Parfon, keep in your weapon. Shal. So do you, good Mr. Doctor. Hoft. Difarm them, and let them queftion; let them keep their limbs whole, and hack our English. Caius. I pray you, let a me speak a word with your ear: wherefore vill you not meet-a me? Eva. Pray you, ufe your patience in good time. Caius. By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog, John ape. Eva. Pray you, let us not be laughing-ftocks to other mens humours: I defire you in friendship, and will one way or other make you amends; I will knog your urinal about your knave's cogs-comb, for miffing your meetings and appointments. Caius. Diable! Jack Rugby, mine Hoft de Jarteer, have I not stay for him, to kill him? have I not, at de place I did appoint? Eva. As I am a chriftian's foul, now look you, this is the place appointed; I'll be judgment by mine Hoft of the Garter, Hoft. Peace, I fay, Gallia and Gaul, French and Welch, foul-curer and body-curer. Caius. Ay, dat is very good, excellent. Hoft. Peace, I fay; hear mine Hoft of the Garter, Am I politic? am Í fubtle? am I a Machiavel? fhall I lofe my Doctor? no; he gives me the potions and the motions. Shall I lofe my Parfon? my Prieft? my Sir Hugh? no; he gives me the proverbs and the no you verbs. Give me thy hand, terrestrial; fo: Give me thy hand, celeftial: fo, Boys of art, I have deceiv'd both: I have directed you to wrong places: your hearts are mighty, your skins are whole, and let burn'd fack be the illue. Came, lay their fwords to pawn. Follow me lad of peace, follow, follow, follow. Shal. Truft me, a mad hoft. Follow, gentlemen, follow. Slen. O fweet Ann Page! [Exe. Shal. Slen. Page and Hoft. Caius. Ha! do I perceive dat? have you make a-defot of us, ha, ha? Eva. This is well, he has made us his vloutingfog. I defire you, that we may be friends; and let us knog our prains together to be revenge on this fame icald-fcurvy-cogging companion, the Hoft of the Garter. Caius. By gar, with all my heart; he promife to bring me where is Ann Page; by gar, he deceive me 100. Eva. Well, I will fmite his noddles; pray you, follow. SCENE, the Street, in Windfor. Enter Miftrefs Page, and Robin. [Exeunt. Mrs. Page. NAY, keep your way, little gallant ; you were wont to be a follower, but now you are a leader. Whether had you rather lead eyes, or eye your mafter's heels? mine Rob. I had rather, forfooth, go before you like a man, than follow him like a dwarf. Mrs. Page. O, you are a flattering boy; now you'll be a courtier, Enter Ford. Ford. Well met, miftrefs Page; whither go you? Mrs. Page. Truly, Sir, to fee your wife; is fhe at home? Ford. |