Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/The Merry Wives of Windsor/Act 3 Scene 1
Actus Tertius. Scæna Prima.
Enter Euans, Simple, Page, Shallow, Slender, Host, Caius, Rugby.
Euans. I pray you now, good Master Slenders seruingman, and friend Simple by your name; which way haue you look'd for Master Caius, that calls himselfe Doctor of Phisicke.
Sim.
Marry Sir, the pittie-ward, the Parke-ward: euery way: olde Windsor way, and euery way but the Towne-way.
Euan.
I most fehemently desire you, you will also looke that way.
Sim.
I will sir.
Euan 'Plesse my soule: how full of Chollors I am, and trempling of minde: I shall be glad if he haue deceiued me: how melancholies I am? I will knog his Vrinalls about his knaues costard, when I haue good oportunities for the orke: 'Plesse my soule: To shallow Riuers to whose falls: melodious Birds sings Madrigalls: There will we make our Peds of Roses: and a thousand fragrant posies. To Shallow:
'Mercie on mee, I haue a great dispositions to cry.
Melodious birds sing Madrigalls: —When as I sat in Pabilon: and a thousand vagram Posies. To shallow, &c.
Sim.
Yonder he is comming, this way, Sir Hugh.
Euan.
Hee's welcome: To shallow Riuers, to whose fals: Heauen prosper the right: what weapons is he?
Sim.
No weapons, Sir: there comes my Master, Mr. Shallow, and another Gentleman; from Frogmore, ouer the stile, this way.
Euan.
Pray you giue mee my gowne, or else keepe it in your armes.
Shal.
How now Master Parson? good morrow good Sir Hugh: keepe a Gamester from the dice, and a good Studient from his booke, and it is wonderfull.
Slen.
Ah sweet Anne Page.
Page.
'Saue you, good Sir Hugh.
Euan.
'Plesse you from his mercy-sake, all of you.
Shal.
What? the Sword, and the Word? Doe you study them both, Mr. Parson?
Page. And youthfull still, in your doublet and hose, this raw-rumaticke day?
Euan. There is reasons, and causes for it.
Page We are come to you, to doe a good office, Mr. Parson.
Euan Fery-well: what is it?
Page. Yonder is a most reuerend Gentleman; who (be-like) hauing receiued wrong by some person, is at most odds with his owne grauity and patience, that euer you saw.
Shal.
I haue liued foure-score yeeres, and vpward: I neuer heard a man of his place, grauity, and learning, so wide of his owne respect.
Euan.
What is he?
Page. I thinke you know him: Mr. Doctor Caius the renowned French Physician.
Euan.
Got's-will, and his passion of my heart: I had as lief you would tell me of a messe of porredge.
Page.
Why?
Euan. He has no more knowledge in Hibocrates and Galen, and hee is a knaue besides: a cowardly knaue, as you would desires to be acquainted withall.
Page.
I warrant you, hee's the man should fight with him.
Slen.
O sweet Anne Page.
Shal.
It appeares so by his weapons: keepe them asunder: here comes Doctor Caius.
Page.
Nay good Mr. Parson, keepe in your weapon.
Shal.
So doe you, good Mr. Doctor.
Host.
Disarme them, and let them question: let them keepe their limbs whole, and hack our English.
Cai.
I pray you let-a-mee speake a word with your eare; vherefore vill you not meet-a me?
Euan. Pray you vse your patience in good time.
Cai.
By-gar, you are de Coward: de Iack dog: Iohn Ape.
Euan.
Pray you let vs not be laughing-stocks to other mens humors: I desire you in friendship, and I will one way or other make you amends: I will knog your Vrinal about your knaues Cogs-combe.
Cai.
Diable: Iack Rugby: mine Host de Iarteer: haue I not stay for him, to kill him? haue I not at de place I did appoint?
Euan. As I am a Christians-soule, now looke you: this is the place appointed, Ile bee iudgement by mine Host of the Garter.
Host.
Peace, I say, Gallia and Gaule, French & Welch, Soule-Curer, and Body-Curer.
Cai.
I, dat is very good, excellant.
Host.
Peace, I say: heare mine Host of the Garter, Am I politicke? Am I subtle? Am I a Machiuell? Shall I loose my Doctor? No, hee giues me the Potions and the Motions. Shall I loose my Parson? my Priest? my Sir Hugh? No, he giues me the Prouerbes, and the No-verbes. Giue me thy hand (Celestiall) so: Boyes of Art, I haue deceiu'd you both: I haue directed you to wrong places: your hearts are mighty, your skinnes are whole, and let burn'd Sacke be the issue: Come, lay their swords to pawne: Follow me, Lad of peace, follow, follow, follow.
Shal.
Trust me, a mad Host: follow Gentlemen, follow.
Slen.
O sweet Anne Page.
Cai.
Ha' do I perceiue dat? Haue you make-a-de-sot of vs, ha, ha?
Eua.
This is well, he has made vs his vlowting-stog: I desire you that we may be friends: and let vs knog our praines together to be reuenge on this same scall scuruy-cogging-companion the Host of the Garter.
Cai.
By gar, with all my heart: he promise to bring me where is Anne Page: by gar he deceiue me too.
Euan.
Well, I will smite his noddles: pray you follow.