Bard. Sir John, there's one master Brook below would fain speak with you, and be acquainted with you; and hath fent your worship a morning's draught of fack.

Fal. Brook, is his name?

Bard. Ay, Sir.

Fal. Call him in; [Exit Bardolph.] fuch Brooks are welcome to me, that o'erflow with fuch liquor. Ah! ah! mistress Ford and mistress Page, have I encompass'd you? go to, via!

Re-enter Bardolph, with Ford disguis'd.

Ford. Bless you, Sir.

Fal. And you, Sir; would you speak with me?
Ford. I make bold to press with so little preparation

upon you.

Fal. You're welcome; what's your will? give us leave, drawer. [Exit Bardolph.

Ford. Sir, I am a gentleman that have spent much; my name is Brook.

Fal. Good master Brook, I defire more acquaintance of you.

Ford. Good Sir John, I fue for yours; not to charge you; for I must let you understand, I think myself in better plight for a lender than you are, the which hath fomething embolden'd me to this unseason'd intrusion; for they say, if mony go before, all ways do lye open. Fal. Mony is a good foldier, Sir, and will on. Ford. Troth, and I have a bag of mony here trou

bles me; if you will help me to bear it, Sir John, take all, or half, for easing me of the carriage.

Fal. Sir, I know not how I may deserve to be your porter. Ford. I will tell you, Sir, if you will give me the hearing. Fal. Speak, good master Brook, I shall be glad to be your servant.

Ford. Sir, I hear, you are a scholar; (I will be brief with you) and you have been a man long known to me, tho' I had never fo good means, as defire, to make myself acquainted with you: I shall discover a thing to you, wherein I must very much lay open mine own imperfections; but, good Sir John, as you have one eye upon my follies, as you hear them unfolded, turn another into the register of your own, that I may pass with a reproof the easier; sith you yourself know, how eafie it is to be such an offender.

Fal. Very well: Sir, proceed.

Ford. There is a gentlewoman in this town, her husband's name is Ford.

Fal. Well, Sir.

Ford. I have long lov'd her; and, I protest to you, bestow'd much on her; follow'd her with a doating observance; ingross'd opportunities to meet her; fee'd every flight occafion, that could but niggardly give me fight of her; not only bought many presents to give her, but have given largely to many, to know what she would have given: briefly, I have pursued her, as love hath pursu'd me, which hath been on the wing of all occafions. But whatfoever I have merited, either in my mind, or in my means; meed, I am fure, I have received none; unless experience be a jewel; That I have purchas'd at an infinite rate, and That hath taught me to say this;

Love like a shadow flies, when substance love pursues;
Pursuing That that flies, and flying what pursues.

Fal.

Fal. Have you receiv'd no promise of fatisfaction at her hands?

Ford. Never.

Fal. Have you importun'd her to such a purpose?

Ford. Never.

Fal. Of what quality was your love then?

Ford. Like a fair house, built on another man's ground; so that I have lost my edifice, by mistaking the place where I erected it.

Fal. To what purpose have you unfolded this to

me?

Ford. When I have told you that, I have told you all. Some say, that tho' fhe appear honeft to me, yet in other places she enlargeth her mirth so far, that there is shrewd construction made of her. Now, Sir John, here is the heart of my purpose: You are a gentleman of excellent breeding, admirable discourse, of great admittance, authentick in your place and person, generally allow'd for your many war-like, court-like, and learned preparations. Fal. O Sir!

Ford. Believe it, for you know it; there is mony, spend it, spend it; spend more, spend all I have, only give me fo much of your time in exchange of it, as to lay an amiable siege to the honesty of this Ford's wife; use your art of wooing, win her to confent to you; if any man may, you may as foon as any.

Fal. Would it apply well to the vehemence of your affection, that I should win what you would enjoy? methinks, you prescribe to yourself very preposteroufly.

Ford. O, understand my drift; she dwells so securely on the excellency of her honour, that the folly of my foul dares not present itself; she is too bright to be look'd against. Now, could I come to her with any detection in my hand, my defires had instance and argument to commend themselves; I could drive her then then from the ward of her purity, her reputation, her marriage-vow, and a thousand other her defences, which now are too too strongly embattel'd against me. What say you to't, Sir John?

Fal. Master Brook, I will first make bold with your mony; next, give me your hand; and last, as I am a gentleman, you shall, if you will, enjoy Ford's wife. Ford. O good Sir!

Fal. Master Brook, I say, you shall.

Ford. Want no mony, Sir John, you shall want

none.

Fal. Want no mistress Ford, master Brook, you shall want none; I shall be with her, I may tell you, by her own appointment. Even as you came in to me, her assistant, or go-between, parted from me; I say, I shall be with her between ten and eleven; for at that time the jealous rascally knave, her husband, will be forth; come you to me at night, you shall know how I speed.

Ford. I am blest in your acquaintance: do you know Ford, Sir?

Fal. Hang him, poor cuckoldly knave, I know him not: yet I wrong him, to call him poor; they say, the jealous wittolly knave hath masses of mony, for the which his wife seems to be well-favour'd. I will ufe her as the key of the cuckoldly-rogue's coffer; and there's my harvest-home.

Ford. I would you knew Ford, Sir, that you might avoid him, if you faw him.

Fal. Hang him, mechanical salt-butter rogue; I will stare him out of his wits; I will awe him with my cudgel; it shall hang like a meteor o'er the Cuckold's horns. Master Brook, thou shalt know, I will predominate over the peasant; and thou shalt lye with his wife: Come to me foon at night; Ford's a knave, and I will aggravate his stile: thou, master Brook, shalt know him for knave and cuckold: come to me foon

at night.

[Exit.

SCENE

Ford. What a damn'd Epicurean rascal is this! my heart is ready to crack with impatience. Who says, this is improvident jealousie? my wife hath sent to him, the hour is fixt, the match is made; would any man have thought this? see the hell of having a falfe woman! my bed shall be abus'd, my coffers ransack'd, my reputation gnawn at; and I shall not only receive this villainous wrong, but stand under the adoption of abominable terms, and by him that does me the wrong. Terms, names; Amaimon sounds well; Lucifer, well; Barbajon, well; yet they are devils' additions, the names of fiends: but cuckold, wittol, cuckold! the devil himself hath not such a name. Page is an ass, a secure ass, he will trust his wife; he will not be jealous: I will rather trust a Fleming with my butter, parfon Hugh the Welchman with my cheese, an Irishman with my Aquavitæ bottle, or a thief to walk my ambling gelding, than my wife with herself: then she plots, then she ruminates, then she devises: and what they think in their hearts they may effect, they will break their hearts but they will effect. Heav'n be prais'd for my jealoufie! Eleven o'clock the hour; I will prevent this, detect my wife, be reveng'd on Falstaff, and laugh at Page: I will about it: better three hours too foon, than a minute too late. Fie, fie, fie; cuckold, cuckold, cuckold! [Exit.