(In him that was of late an Heretike)
As firme as faith.
’Tis well,’tis well, no more:
Be not as extreme in submission, as in offence,
But let our plot go forward: Let our wiues
Yet once againe (to make vs publike sport)
Appoint a meeting with this old fat-fellow,
Where we may take him, and disgrace him for it.
There is no better way then that they spoke of.
How? to send him word they’ll meete him in
the Parke at midnight? Fie, fie, he’ll neuer come.
You say he has bin throwne in the Riuers: and
has bin greeuously peaten, as an old o’man: me-thinkes
there should be terrors in him, that he should not come:
Me-thinkes his flesh is punish’d, hee shall haue no desires.
So thinke I too.
Deuise but how you’l vse him whe[n] he comes,
And let vs two deuise to bring him thether.
There is an old tale goes, that Herne the
Hunter (sometime a keeper heere in Windsor Forrest)
Doth all the winter time, at still midnight
Walke round about an Oake, with great rag’d-hornes,
And there he blasts the tree, and takes the cattle,
And make milch-kine yeeld blood, and shakes a chaine
In a most hideous and dreadfull manner.
You haue heard of such a Spirit, and well you know
The superstitious idle-headed-Eld
Receiu’d, and did deliuer to our age
This tale of Herne the Hunter, for a truth.
Why yet there want not many that do feare
In deepe of night to walke by this Hernes Oake:
But what of this?
Marry this is our deuise,
That Falstaffe at that Oake shall meete with vs
Well, let it not be doubted but he’ll come,
And in this shape, when you haue brought him thether,
What shall be done with him? What is your plot?
That likewise haue we thoght vpon: & thus:
Nan Page (my daughter) and my little sonne,
And three or foure more of their growth, wee’l dresse
Like Vrchins, Ouphes, and Fairies, greene and white,
With rounds of waxen Tapers on their heads,
And rattles in their hands; vpon a sodaine,
As Falstaffe, she, and I, are newly met,
Let them from forth a saw-pit rush at once
With some diffused song: Vpon their sight
We two, in great amazednesse will flye:
Then let them all encircle him about,
And Fairy-like to pinch the vncleane Knight;
And aske him why that houre of Fairy Reuell,
In their so sacred pathes, he dares to tread
In shape prophane.
And till he tell the truth,
Let the supposed Fairies pinch him, sound,
And burne him with their Tapers.
The truth being knowne,
We’ll all present our selues; dis-horne the spirit,
And mocke him home to Windsor.
The children must
Be practis’d well to this, or they’ll neu’r doo’t.
I will teach the children their behauiours: and I
will be like a Iacke-an-Apes also, to burne the Knight
with my Taber.
That will be excellent,
Ile go buy them vizards.
My Nan shall be the Queene of all the Fairies, finely attired in a robe of white.
That silke will I go buy, and in that time
Shall M[aster]. Slender steale my Nan away,
And marry her at Eaton: go, send to Falstaffe straight.
Nay, Ile to him againe in name of Broome,
Hee’l tell me all his purpose: sure hee’l come.
Feare not you that: Go get vs properties
And tricking for our Fayries.
Let vs about it,
It is admirable pleasures, and ferry honest knaueries.
Go Mist[ris]. Ford,
Send quickly to Sir Iohn, to know his minde:
Ile to the Doctor, he hath my good will,
And none but he to marry with Nan Page:
That Slender (though well landed) is an Ideot:
And he, my husband best of all affects:
The Doctor is well monied, and his friends
Potent at Court: he, none but he shall haue her,
Though twenty thousand worthier come to craue her.
Enter Host, Simple, Falstaffe, Bardolfe, Euans,
What wouldst thou haue? (Boore) what? (thick
skin) speake, breathe, discusse: breefe, short, quicke,
Marry Sir, I come to speake with Sir Iohn Falstaffe
from M[aster]. Slender.
There’s his Chamber, his House, his Castle,
his standing-bed and truckle-bed:’tis painted about
with the story of the Prodigall, fresh and new: go, knock
and call: hee’l speake like an Anthropophaginian vnto
thee: Knocke I say.
There’s an olde woman, a fat woman gone vp
into his chamber: Ile be so bold as stay Sir till she come
downe: I come to speake with her indeed.
Ha? A fat woman? The Knight may be robb’d:
Ile call. Bully-Knight, Bully Sir Iohn: speake from thy
Lungs Military: Art thou there? It is thine Host, thine
How now, mine Host?
Here’s a Bohemian-Tartar taries the comming
downe of thy fat-woman: Let her descend (Bully) let
her descend: my Chambers are honourable: Fie, priuacy?
There was (mine Host) an old-fat-woman euen
now with me, but she’s gone.
Pray you Sir, was’t not the Wise-woman of
I marry was it (Mussel-shell) what would you
My Master (Sir) my master Slender, sent to her
seeing her go thorough the streets, to know (Sir) whether
one Nim (Sir) that beguil’d him of a chaine, had the
chaine, or no.
I spake with the old woman about it.
And what sayes she, I pray Sir?
Marry shee sayes, that the very same man that
beguil’d Master Slender of his Chaine, cozon’d him of it.
I would I could haue spoken with the Woman