Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/The Merry Wives of Windsor/Act 3 Scene 5
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.
Ford.
A Buck-basket?
Fal.
Yes: a Buck-basket: ram’d mee in with foule Shirts and Smockes, Socks, foule Stockings, greasie Napkins, that (Master Broome) there was the rankest compound of villanous smell, that euer offended nostrill.
Ford.
And how long lay you there?
Fal.
Nay, you shall heare (Master Broome) what I haue sufferd, to bring this woman to euill, for your good: Being thus cram’d in the Basket, a couple of Fords knaues, his Hindes, were cald forth by their Mistris, to carry mee in the name of foule Cloathes to Datchet-lane: they tooke me on their shoulders: met the iealous knaue their Master in the doore; who ask’d them once or twice what they had in their Basket? I quak’d for feare least the Lunatique Knaue would haue search’d it: but Fate (ordaining he should be a Cuckold) held his hand: well, on went hee, for a search, and away went I for foule Cloathes: But marke the sequell (Master Broome) I suffered the pangs of three seuerall deaths: First, an intollerable fright, to be detected with a iealious rotten Bell-weather: Next to be compass’d like a good Bilbo in the circumference of a Pecke, hilt to point, heele to head. And then to be stopt in like a strong distillation with stinking Cloathes, that fretted in their owne grease: thinke of that, a man of my Kidney; thinke of that, that am as subiect to heate as butter; a man of continuall dissolution, and thaw: it was a miracle to scape suffocation. And in the height of this Bath (when I was more then halfe stew’d in grease (like a Dutch-dish) to be throwne into the Thames, and coold, glowing-hot, in that serge like a Horse-shoo; thinke of that; hissing hot: thinke of that (Master Broome.)
Ford.
In good sadnesse Sir, I am sorry, that for my sake you haue sufferd all this.
My suite then is desperate: You’ll vndertake her no more?
Fal.
Master Broome: I will be throwne into Etna, as I haue beene into Thames, ere I will leaue her thus; her Husband is this morning gone a Birding: I haue receiued from her another ambassie of meeting: ’twixt eight and nine is the houre (Master Broome.)
Ford.
’Tis past eight already Sir.
Fal.
Is it? I will then addresse mee to my appointment: Come to mee at your conuenient leisure, and you shall know how I speede: and the conclusion shall be crowned with your enioying her: adiew: you shall haue her (Master Broome) Master Broome, you shall cuckold Ford.
Ford.
Hum: ha? Is this a vision? Is this a dreame? doe I sleepe? Master Ford awake, awake Master Ford: ther’s a hole made in your best coate (Master Ford: ) this ’tis to be married; this’tis to haue Lynnen, and Buckbaskets: Well, I will proclaime my selfe what I am: I will now take the Leacher: hee is at my house: hee cannot scape me: ’tis impossible hee should: hee cannot creepe into a halfe-penny purse, nor into a PepperBoxe: But least the Diuell that guides him, should aide him, I will search impossible places: though what I am, I cannot auoide; yet to be what I would not, shall not make me tame: If I haue hornes, to make one mad, let the prouerbe goe with me, Ile be hornemad. Exeunt.