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Pist. Convey, the wise it call: steal! foh; a ficol for the phrase!
Fal. Well, sirs, I am almost out at heels.
Fal. There is no remedy; I must coney-catch; I must shift.
Pist. Young ravens must have food.
Fal. Which of you know Ford of this town?
Pist. Two yards, and more.
Fal. No quips now, Pistol; indeed I am in the waist two yards about: but I am now about no waste; I am about thrift. Briefly, I do mean to make love to Ford's wife; I spy entertainment in her, she discourses, she carves, she gives the leer of invitation: I can construe the action of her familiar style; and the hardest voice of her behaviour, to be English'd rightly, is, I am Sir John Falstaff's.
Pist. He hath studied her well, and translated her well; out of honesty into English.
Nym. The anchor is deep: will that humour pass?
Fal. Now, the report goes, she has all the rule of her husband's purse; she hath legions of angels. 2
Pist. As many devils entertain; and, To her, boy, say I.
Nym. The humour rises; it is good: humour me the angels.
Fal. I have writ me here a letter to her: and here another to Page's wife; who even now gave me good eyes too, examin'd my parts with most judicious eyliads: sometimes the beam of her view gilded my foot, sometimes my portly belly.
Pist. Then did the sun on dunghill shine.
(2) Gold coin.
Nym. I thank thee for that humour.
Fal. O, she did so course o'er my exteriors with such a greedy intention, that the appetite of her eye did seem to scorch me up like a burning-glass! Here's another letter to her: she bears the purse too she is a region in Guiana, all gold and bounty. I will be cheater1 to them both, and they shall be exchequers to me; they shall be my East and West Indies, and I will trade to them both. Go, bear thou this letter to mistress Page; and thou this to mistress Ford: we will thrive, lads, we will thrive.
Pist. Shall I Sir Pandarus of Troy become, And by my side wear steel? then, Lucifer take all!
Nym. I will run no base humour; here, take the humour letter; I will keep the 'haviour of reputation.
Fal. Hold, sirrah, [to Rob.] bear you these letters tightly;2
Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores.Rogues, hence, avaunt! vanish like hail-stones, go; Trudge, plod, away, o' the hoof; seek shelter, pack!
Falstaff will learn the humour of this age, French thrift, you rogues; myself, and skirted page. [Exeunt Falstaff and Robin. Pist. Let vultures gripe thy guts! for gourd and fullam3 holds,
And high and low beguile the rich and poor: Tester I'll have in pouch,4 when thou shalt lack, Base Phrygian Turk!
Nym. I have operations in my head, which be humours of revenge.
Pist. Wilt thou revenge?
By welkin, and her star!
With both the humours, I;
(1) Escheatour, an officer in the Exchequer.
I will discuss the humour of this love to Page.
His dove will prove, his gold will hold,
Nym. My humour shall not cool: I will incense1 Page to deal with poison; I will possess him with yellowness,2 for the revolt of mien is dangerous: that is my true humour.
Pist. Thou art the Mars of malcontents: I second thee; troop on. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV-A room in Dr. Caius's house. Enter Mrs. Quickly, Simple, and Rugby.
Quick. What; John Rugby!-I pray thee, go to the casement, and see if you can see my master, master Doctor Caius, coming: if he do, i'faith, and find any body in the house, here will be an old abusing of God's patience, and the king's English. [Exit Rugby. Quick. Go; and we'll have a posset for't soon at night, in faith, at the latter end of a sea-coal fire. honest, willing, kind fell as ever servant
Rug. I'll go watch.
shall come in house withal; and, I warrant you, no
Quick. And master Slender's your master?
Quick. Does he not wear a great round beard, like a glover's paring-knife?
Sim. No, forsooth: he hath but a little wee face, with a little yellow beard; a Cain-coloured beard.
(1) Instigate. (4) Foolish.
Quick. A softly-sprighted man, is he not? Sim. Ay, forsooth: but he is as tall a man of his hands, as any is between this and his head: he hath fought with a warrener.2
Quick. How say you?-O, I should remember him; does he not hold up his head, as it were? and strut in his gait?
Sim. Yes, indeed, does he.
Quick. Well, heaven send Anne Page no worse fortune! Tell master parson Evans, I will do what I can for your master: Anne is a good girl, and I
Rug. Out, alas here comes my master.
Quick. We shall all be shent :3 run in here, good young man; go into this closet. [Shuts Simple in the closet.] He will not stay long.-What, John Rugby! John, what, John, I say!-Go, John, go inquire for my master; I doubt, he be not well, that he comes not home and down, down, adown-a, &c. [Sings.
Enter Doctor Caius.
Caius. Vat is you sing? I do not like dese toys; Pray you, go and vetch me in my closet un boitier verd; a box, a green-a box; do intend vat I speak? a green-a box.
Quick. Ay, forsooth, I'll fetch it you. I am glad he went not in himself; if he had found the young man, he would have been horn-mad.
[Aside. Caius. Fe, fe, fe, fe! ma foi, il fait fort chaud. Je m'en vais à la cour,-la grand affaire. Quick. Is it this, sir?
Caius. Ouy; mette le au mon pocket; depeche, quickly :-Vere is dat knave Rugby?
(2) The keeper of a warren.
Quick. What, John Rugby! John!
Carus. You are John Rugby, and you are Jack Rugby: come, take-a your rapier, and come after my heel to de court.
Rug. 'Tis ready, sir, here in the porch.
Caius. By my trot, I tarry too long:-Od's me! Qu'ay j'oublié ? dere is some simples in my closet, dat I vill not for the varld I shall leave behind.
Quick. Ah me! he'll find the young man there, and be mad.
Caius. O diable, diable! vat is in my closet?Villany! larron! [Pulling Simple out.] Rugby, my rapier.
Quick. Good master, be content.
Caius. Verefore shall I be content-a?
Quick. The young man is an honest man. Caius. Vat shail de honest man do in my closet? dere is no honest man dat shall come in my closet. Quick. I beseech you, be not so flegmatic; hear the truth of it: he came of an errand to me from parson Hugh.
Sim. Ay, forsooth, to desire her to-
Caius. Peace-a your tongue :-Speak-a your tale. Sim. To desire this honest gentlewoman, your maid, to speak a good word to mistress Anne Page, for my master, in the way of marriage.
Quick. This is all, indeed, la; but I'll ne'er put my finger in the fire, and need not.
Caius. Sir Hugh send-a you?-Rugby, baillez me some paper:-Tarry you a little-a while.
[writes. Quick. I am glad he is so quiet: if he had been thoroughly moved, you should have heard him so load, and so melancholy;-but notwithstanding, man, I'll do your master what good I can: and, the very yea and the no is, the French doctor, my master, I may call him my master, look you, for