| FALSTAFF
|
Mistress Ford, your sorrow
hath eaten up my
sufferance. I see you are obsequious in your love,
and I profess requital to a hair's breadth; not
only, Mistress Ford, in the simple
office of love, but in all the accoutrement,
complement and ceremony of it. But are you
sure of your husband now? |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
He's a-birding, sweet Sir
John. |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
[Within] What, ho, gossip
Ford! what, ho! |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
Step into the chamber, Sir
John. |
| |
[Exit FALSTAFF] |
| |
[Enter MISTRESS PAGE] |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
How now, sweetheart! who's
at home besides yourself? |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
Why, none but mine own
people. |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
Indeed! |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
No, certainly. |
| |
[Aside to her] |
| |
Speak louder. |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
Truly, I am so glad you have
nobody here. |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
Why? |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
Why, woman, your husband is
in his old lunes again:
he so takes on yonder with my husband; so rails
against all married mankind; so curses all Eve's
daughters, of what complexion soever; and so buffets
himself on the forehead, crying, 'Peer out, peer
out!' that any madness I ever yet beheld seemed but
tameness, civility and patience, to this his
distemper he is in now: I am glad the fat knight is not here. |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
Why, does he talk of him?
|
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
Of none but him; and swears
he was carried out, the
last time he searched for him, in a basket; protests
to my husband he is now here, and hath drawn him and
the rest of their company from their sport, to make
another experiment of his suspicion: but I am glad
the knight is not here; now he shall see his own foolery. |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
How near is he, Mistress
Page? |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
Hard by; at street end; he
will be here anon. |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
I am undone! The knight is
here. |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
Why then you are utterly
shamed, and he's but a dead
man. What a woman are you!--Away with him, away
with him! better shame than murder. |
| FORD |
Which way should be go? how
should I bestow him?
Shall I put him into the basket again? |
| |
[Re-enter FALSTAFF] |
| FALSTAFF
|
No, I'll come no more i' the
basket. May I not go
out ere he come? |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
Alas, three of Master Ford's
brothers watch the door
with pistols, that none shall issue out; otherwise
you might slip away ere he came. But what make you here? |
| FALSTAFF
|
What shall I do? I'll creep
up into the chimney. |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
There they always use to
discharge their
birding-pieces. Creep into the kiln-hole. |
| FALSTAFF
|
Where is it? |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
He will seek there, on my
word. Neither press,
coffer, chest, trunk, well, vault, but he hath an
abstract for the remembrance of such places, and
goes to them by his note: there is no hiding you in the house. |
| FALSTAFF
|
I'll go out then. |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
If you go out in your own
semblance, you die, Sir
John. Unless you go out disguised-- |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
How might we disguise him?
|
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
Alas the day, I know not!
There is no woman's gown
big enough for him otherwise he might put on a hat,
a muffler and a kerchief, and so escape. |
| FALSTAFF
|
Good hearts, devise
something: any extremity rather
than a mischief. |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
My maid's aunt, the fat
woman of Brentford, has a
gown above. |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
On my word, it will serve
him; she's as big as he
is: and there's her thrummed hat and her muffler
too. Run up, Sir John. |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
Go, go, sweet Sir John:
Mistress Page and I will
look some linen for your head. |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
Quick, quick! we'll come
dress you straight: put
on the gown the while. |
| |
[Exit FALSTAFF] |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
I would my husband would
meet him in this shape: he
cannot abide the old woman of Brentford; he swears
she's a witch; forbade her my house and hath
threatened to beat her. |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
Heaven guide him to thy
husband's cudgel, and the
devil guide his cudgel afterwards! |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
But is my husband coming?
|
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
Ah, in good sadness, is he;
and talks of the basket
too, howsoever he hath had intelligence. |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
We'll try that; for I'll
appoint my men to carry the
basket again, to meet him at the door with it, as
they did last time. |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
Nay, but he'll be here
presently: let's go dress him
like the witch of Brentford. |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
I'll first direct my men
what they shall do with the
basket. Go up; I'll bring linen for him straight. |
| |
[Exit] |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
Hang him, dishonest varlet!
we cannot misuse him enough.
We'll leave a proof, by that which we will do,
Wives may be merry, and yet honest too:
We do not act that often jest and laugh;
'Tis old, but true, Still swine eat all the draff. |
| |
[Exit] |
| |
[Re-enter MISTRESS FORD with
two Servants] |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
Go, sirs, take the basket
again on your shoulders:
your master is hard at door; if he bid you set it
down, obey him: quickly, dispatch. |
| |
[Exit] |
| First
Servant |
Come, come, take it up.
|
| Second
Servant |
Pray heaven it be not full
of knight again. |
| First
Servant |
I hope not; I had as lief
bear so much lead. |
| |
[Enter FORD, PAGE, SHALLOW,
DOCTOR CAIUS, and
SIR HUGH EVANS] |
| FORD |
Ay, but if it prove true,
Master Page, have you any
way then to unfool me again? Set down the basket,
villain! Somebody call my wife. Youth in a basket!
O you panderly rascals! there's a knot, a ging, a
pack, a conspiracy against me: now shall the devil
be shamed. What, wife, I say! Come, come forth!
Behold what honest clothes you send forth to bleaching! |
| PAGE |
Why, this passes, Master
Ford; you are not to go
loose any longer; you must be pinioned. |
| SIR HUGH
EVANS |
Why, this is lunatics! this
is mad as a mad dog! |
| SHALLOW
|
Indeed, Master Ford, this is
not well, indeed. |
| FORD |
So say I too, sir. |
| |
[Re-enter MISTRESS FORD]
|
| |
Come hither, Mistress Ford;
Mistress Ford the honest
woman, the modest wife, the virtuous creature, that
hath the jealous fool to her husband! I suspect
without cause, mistress, do I? |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
Heaven be my witness you do,
if you suspect me in
any dishonesty. |
| FORD |
Well said, brazen-face! hold
it out. Come forth, sirrah! |
| |
[Pulling clothes out of the
basket] |
| PAGE |
This passes! |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
Are you not ashamed? let the
clothes alone. |
| FORD |
I shall find you anon.
|
| SIR HUGH
EVANS |
'Tis unreasonable! Will you
take up your wife's
clothes? Come away. |
| FORD |
Empty the basket, I say!
|
| MISTRESS
FORD |
Why, man, why? |
| FORD |
Master Page, as I am a man,
there was one conveyed
out of my house yesterday in this basket: why may
not he be there again? In my house I am sure he is:
my intelligence is true; my jealousy is reasonable.
Pluck me out all the linen. |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
If you find a man there, he
shall die a flea's death. |
| PAGE |
Here's no man. |
| SHALLOW
|
By my fidelity, this is not
well, Master Ford; this
wrongs you. |
| SIR HUGH
EVANS |
Master Ford, you must pray,
and not follow the
imaginations of your own heart: this is jealousies. |
| FORD |
Well, he's not here I seek
for. |
| PAGE |
No, nor nowhere else but in
your brain. |
| FORD |
Help to search my house this
one time. If I find
not what I seek, show no colour for my extremity; let
me for ever be your table-sport; let them say of
me, 'As jealous as Ford, Chat searched a hollow
walnut for his wife's leman.' Satisfy me once more;
once more search with me. |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
What, ho, Mistress Page!
come you and the old woman
down; my husband will come into the chamber. |
| FORD |
Old woman! what old woman's
that? |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
Nay, it is my maid's aunt of
Brentford. |
| FORD |
A witch, a quean, an old
cozening quean! Have I not
forbid her my house? She comes of errands, does
she? We are simple men; we do not know what's
brought to pass under the profession of
fortune-telling. She works by charms, by spells,
by the figure, and such daubery as this is, beyond
our element we know nothing. Come down, you witch,
you hag, you; come down, I say! |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
Nay, good, sweet husband!
Good gentlemen, let him
not strike the old woman. |
| |
[Re-enter FALSTAFF in
woman's clothes, and
MISTRESS PAGE] |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
Come, Mother Prat; come,
give me your hand. |
| FORD |
I'll prat her. |
| |
[Beating him] |
| |
Out of my door, you witch,
you hag, you baggage, you
polecat, you runyon! out, out! I'll conjure you,
I'll fortune-tell you. |
| |
[Exit FALSTAFF] |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
Are you not ashamed? I think
you have killed the
poor woman. |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
Nay, he will do it. 'Tis a
goodly credit for you. |
| FORD |
Hang her, witch! |
| SIR HUGH
EVANS |
By the yea and no, I think
the 'oman is a witch
indeed: I like not when a 'oman has a great peard;
I spy a great peard under his muffler. |
| FORD |
Will you follow, gentlemen?
I beseech you, follow;
see but the issue of my jealousy: if I cry out thus
upon no trail, never trust me when I open again. |
| PAGE |
Let's obey his humour a
little further: come,
gentlemen. |
| |
[Exeunt FORD, PAGE, SHALLOW,
DOCTOR CAIUS, and
SIR HUGH EVANS] |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
Trust me, he beat him most
pitifully. |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
Nay, by the mass, that he
did not; he beat him most
unpitifully, methought. |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
I'll have the cudgel
hallowed and hung o'er the
altar; it hath done meritorious service. |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
What think you? may we, with
the warrant of
womanhood and the witness of a good conscience,
pursue him with any further revenge? |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
The spirit of wantonness is,
sure, scared out of
him: if the devil have him not in fee-simple, with
fine and recovery, he will never, I think, in the
way of waste, attempt us again. |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
Shall we tell our husbands
how we have served him? |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
Yes, by all means; if it be
but to scrape the
figures out of your husband's brains. If they can
find in their hearts the poor unvirtuous fat knight
shall be any further afflicted, we two will still be
the ministers. |
| MISTRESS
FORD |
I'll warrant they'll have
him publicly shamed: and
methinks there would be no period to the jest,
should he not be publicly shamed. |
| MISTRESS
PAGE |
Come, to the forge with it
then; shape it: I would
not have things cool. |
| |
[Exeunt] |