« AnteriorContinuar »
FORD. Master Page, as I am a man, there was one convey'd out of my house yesterday in this basket. Why may not he be there again? In my house I am sure he is: my intelligence is true; my jealousy is reasonable.-Pluck me out all the linen.
MRS. FORD. If you find a man there, he shall die a flea's death.
PAGE. Here's no man.
SHAL. By my fidelity, this is not well, Master Ford; this wrongs1 you.
EVANS. Master Ford, you must pray, and not follow the
PAGE. No, nor nowhere else, but in your brain.
FORD. Help to search my house this one time. If I find not what I seek, shew no colour for my extremity, let me for ever be your table-sport; let them say of me, As jealous as Ford, that search'd a hollow walnut for his wife's leman. Satisfy me once more; once
more search with me. MRS. FORD. What hoa! Mistress Page! Come you and the old woman down: my husband will come into the chamber.
FORD. Old woman! What old woman's that?
I not forbid her my house? She comes of errands,
MRS. FORD. Nay, good, sweet husband!-Good gentlemen, let him not strike the old woman.
Enter FALSTAFF in women's clothes, led by MISTRESS PAGE. MRS. PAGE. Come, Mother Prat, come, give me your hand.
FORD. [beating her.] I'll prat3 her.
1 is unworthy of. I: EE
Out of my door,
$ (slang) buttock.
you witch! you hag, you baggage, you polecat, you ronyon!1 Out! out! I'll conjure you, I'll fortunetell you! [Exit FALSTAFF. MRS. PAGE. Are you not asham'd? I think you have kill'd the poor woman.
MRS. FORD. Nay, he will do it!—Tis a goodly credit for
FORD. Hang her, witch!
EVANS. By yea and no, I think the 'oman is a witch
[Exeunt PAGE, FORD, SHALLOW, and EVANS. MRS. PAGE. Trust me, he beat him most pitifully. MRS. FORD. Nay, by the Mass that he did not: he beat
him most unpitifully, methought.
MRS. PAGE. I'll have the cudgel hallow'd, and hung o'er the altar: it hath done meritorious service.
MRS. FORD. What think you? May we, with the warrant
MRS. PAGE. The spirit of wantonness is, sure, scar'd out
MRS. FORD. Shall we tell our husbands how we have
MRS. PAGE. Yes, by all means: if it be but to scrape the
3 give tongue.
SCENE III. A Room in the Garter.
BARD. Sir, the Germans desire to have three of your
SCENE IV. A Room in FORD'S House.
Enter PAGE, FORD, MISTRESS PAGE, MISTRESS FORD, and SIR HUGH EVANS.
EVANS. 'Tis one of the pest discretions of a 'oman as ever
PAGE. And did he send you both these letters at an
MRS. PAGE. Within a quarter of an hour.
FORD. Pardon me, wife. Henceforth do what thou wilt:
I rather will suspect the Sun with cold
Than thee with wantonness. Now doth thy honour stand
In him that was of late an heretic
As firm as faith.
"Tis well, 'tis well; no more.
But let our plot go forward: let our wives
1 (slang) bleed.
ACT IV PAGE. How! to send him word they'll meet him in the Sc. IV Park at midnight? Fie, fie: he'll never come. EVANS. You say, he has been thrown into the rivers, and has been grievously peaten as an old 'oman. Methinks there should be terrors in him, that he should not come; methinks, his flesh is punish'd, he shall have no desires.
PAGE. So think I too.
MRS. FORD. Devise but how you'll use him when he
And let us two devise to bring him thither.
MRS. PAGE. There is an old tale goes, that Herne the
Sometime a keeper here in Windsor forest,
Walk round about an oak, with great ragg'd horns;
And makes milch-kine yield blood, and shakes a chain
You have heard of such a Spirit: and well you know,
Receiv'd, and did deliver to our age,
This tale of Herne the Hunter for a truth.
PAGE. Why, yet there want not many that do fear
Disguis'd like Herne, with huge horns on his head.
And in this shape.
What shall be done with him?
What is your plot?
MRS. PAGE. That likewise have we thought upon, and
Nan Page my daughter, and my little son,
And three or four more of their growth, we'll dress
Like Urchins, Ouphes,3 and Fairies, green and white, 5o
As Falstaff, she, and I, are newly met,
The children must
FORD. That will be excellent. I'll go buy them vizards.
FORD. Nay, I'll to him again in name of Brook :
Sure, he'll come!
He'll tell me all his purpose. MRS. PAGE. Fear not you that!
Go, get us properties,
Finely attired in a robe of white.
PAGE. That silk will I go buy. And in that trim
And marry her at Eton. [aside.] Go, send to Falstaff
And tricking for our Fairies. EVANS. Let us about it. It is admirable pleasures and fery honest knaveries.
[Exeunt PAGE, FORD, and EVANS.
I'll to the Doctor: he hath my good will,