Page:Shakespeare - First Folio Faithfully Reproduced, Methuen, 1910.djvu/78

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Anne.
I meane (M[aster]. Slender) what wold you with me?

Slen.
Truely, for mine owne part, I would little or nothing with you: your father and my vncle hath made motions: if it be my lucke, so; if not, happy man bee his dole, they can tell you how things go, better then I can: you may aske your father, heere he comes

Page.
Now Mr Slender; Loue him daughter Anne.
Why how now? What does Mr Fenten here?
You wrong me Sir, thus still to haunt my house.
I told you Sir, my daughter is disposd of.

Fen.
Nay Mr Page, be not impatient.

Mist.Page.
Good M[aster]. Fenton, come not to my child.

Page.
She is no match for you.

Fen.
Sir, will you heare me?

Page.
No, good M[aster]. Fenton.
Come M[aster]. Shallow: Come sonne Slender, in;
Knowing my minde, you wrong me (M[aster]. Fenton.)

Qui.
Speake to Mistris Page.

Fen.
Good Mist[ris]. Page, for that I loue your daughter
In such a righteous fashion as I do,
Perforce, against all checkes, rebukes, and manners,
I must aduance the colours of my loue,
And not retire. Let me haue your good will.

An.
Good mother, do not marry me to yond foole.

Mist.Page.
I meane it not, I seeke you a better husband.

Qui.
That's my master, M[aster]. Doctor.

An.
Alas I had rather be set quick i'th earth,
And bowl'd to death with Turnips.

Mist.Page.
Come, trouble not your selfe good M[aster]. Fenton, I will not be your friend, nor enemy:
My daughter will I question how she loues you,
And as I finde her, so am I affected:
Till then, farewell Sir, she must needs go in,
Her father will be angry.

Fen.
Farewell gentle Mistris: farewell Nan.

Qui.
This is my doing now: Nay, saide I, will you cast away your childe on a Foole, and a Physitian: Looke on M[aster]. Fenton, this is my doing.

Fen.
I thanke thee: and I pray thee once to night,
Giue my sweet Nan this Ring: there's for thy paines.

Qui.

Now heauen send thee good fortune, a kinde heart he hath: a woman would run through fire & water for such a kinde heart. But yet, I would my Maister had Mistris Anne, or I would M[aster]. Slender had her: or (in sooth) I would M[aster]. Fenton had her; I will do what I can for them all three, for so I haue promisd, and Ile bee as good as my word, but speciously for M[aster]. Fenton. Well, I must of another errand to Sir Iohn Falstaffe from my two Mistresses: what a beast am I to slacke it.
Exeunt.




Scena Quinta.




Enter Falstaffe, Bardolfe, Quickly, Ford.



Fal.
Bardolfe I say.

Bar.
Heere Sir.

Fal.
Go, fetch me a quart of Sacke, put a tost in't. Haue I liu'd to be carried in a Basket like a barrow of butchers Offall? and to be throwne in the Thames? Wel, if I be seru'd such another tricke, Ile haue my braines 'tane out and butter'd, and giue them to a dogge for a New-yeares gift. The rogues slighted me into the riuer with as little remorse, as they would haue drown'de a blinde bitches Puppies, fifteene i'th litter: and you may know by my size, that I haue a kinde of alacrity in sinking: if the bottome were as deepe as hell, I shold down. I had beene drown'd, but that the shore was sheluy and shallow: a death that I abhorre: for the water swelles a man; and what a thing should I haue beene, when I had beene swel'd? I should haue beene a Mountaine of Mummie.

Bar.
Here's M[istris]. Quickly Sir to speake with you.

Fal.
Come, let me poure in some Sack to the Thames water: for my bellies as cold as if I had swallow'd snowbals, for pilles to coole the reines. Call her in.

Bar.
Come in woman.

Qui.
By your leaue: I cry you mercy?
Giue your worship good morrow.

Fal.
Take away these Challices:
Go, brew me a pottle of Sacke finely.

Bard.
With Egges, Sir?

Fal.
Simple of it selfe: Ile no Pullet-Spersme in my brewage. How now?

Qui.
Marry Sir, I come to your worship from M[istris]. Ford.

Fal.
Mist[ris]. Ford? I haue had Ford enough: I was thrown into the Ford; I haue my belly full of Ford.

Qui.
Alas the day, (good-heart) that was not her fault: she do's so take on with her men; they mistooke their erection.

Fal.
So did I mine, to build vpon a foolish Womans promise.

Qui.
Well, she laments Sir for it, that it would yern your heart to see it: her husband goes this morning a birding; she desires you once more to come to her, betweene eight and nine: I must carry her word quickely, she'll make you amends I warrant you.

Fal.
Well, I will visit her, tell her so: and bidde her thinke what a man is: Let her consider his frailety, and then iudge of my merit.

Qui.
I will tell her.

Fal.
Do so. Betweene nine and ten saist thou?

Qui.
Eight and nine Sir.

Fal.
Well, be gone: I will not misse her.

Qui.
Peace be with you Sir.

Fal.
I meruaile I heare not of Mr Broome: he sent me word to stay within: I like his money well. Oh, heere he comes.

Ford.
Blesse you Sir.

Fal.
Now M[aster]. Broome, you come to know
What hath past betweene me, and Fords wife.

Ford.
That indeed (Sir Iohn) is my businesse.

Fal.
M[aster]. Broome I will not lye to you,
I was at her house the houre she appointed me.

Ford.
And sped you Sir?

Fal.
Very ill-fauouredly M[aster]. Broome.

Ford.
How so sir, did she change her determination?

Fal.
No (M[aster]. Broome) but the peaking Curnuto her husband (M[aster]. Broome) dwelling in a continual larum of ielousie, coms me in the instant of our encounter, after we had embrast, kist, protested, & (as it were) spoke the prologue of our Comedy: and at his heeles, a rabble of his companions, thither prouoked and instigated by his distemper, and (forsooth) to serch his house for his wiues Loue.

Ford.
What? While you were there?

Fal.
While I was there.

For.
And did he search for you, & could not find you?

Fal.
You shall heare. As good lucke would haue it, comes in one Mist[ris]. Page, giues intelligence of Fords approch: and in her inuention, and Fords wiues distraction, they conuey'd me into a bucke-basket.