Imatges de pÓgina

Quic. Truly, I thought there had been one number more, because they say, od's nouns.

Eva. Peace your tatlings. What is Fair, William?
Will. Pulcher.
Quic. Poulcats? there are fairer things than poul-


cats, sure.

Eva. You are a very fimplicity 'oman; I pray you,

, peace. What is Lapis, William ?

Will. A stone.
Eva. And what is a stone, William ?
Will. A pebble.

Eva. No, it is Lapis : I pray you, remember in your prain.

Will. Lapis.

Eva. That is a good William: what is he, William that does lend articles ?

Will. Articles are borrow'd of the pronoun, and be thus declin'd, fingulariter, nominativo, bic, hat, boc.

Eva. Nominativo, hig, hag, hog; pray you, mark; genitivo, hujus : well, what is your accusative case ?

Will. Accusative, hinc.

Eva. I pray you, have your remembrance, child; accusative, hung, hang, hog.

Quic. Hang hog, is Latin for bacon, I warrant you,

Eva. Leave your prabbles, 'oman. What is the focative case, William?

Will. O, vocativo, O.
Eva. Remember, William, focative is caret.
Quic. And that's a good root.
Eva.'Oman, forbear.
Mrs. Page. Peace.
Eva. What is your genitive case plural, Willlam?
Will. Genive case ?
Eva. Ay.
Will. Genitive, horum, harum, horum.

Quic. 'Vengeance of Giney's case; fie on her ! ne-
ver name her, child, if she be a whore.
Exa. For shame, 'oman.

Eyic. You do ill to teach the child such words : he teaches him to hick and to hack, which they'll do fast enough of themselves ; and to call horum; fie upon


Eva. 'Oman, art thou lunacies ? halt thou no understanding for thy cases, and the numbers of the genders? thou art as foolish christian creatures, as I would defire.

Mrs. Page. Pr’ythee, hold thy peace.

Eva. Shew me now, William, fome declensions of your pronouns.

Will. Forsooth, I have forgot.

Eva. It is, ki, ca, cod; if you forget your kies your kas, and your cods, you must be preeches : go your ways and play, go.

Mrs. Page. He is a better scholar, than I thought

Eva. He is a good sprag memory. Farewel, Mrs. Page.

Mrs. Page. Adieu, good Sir Hugh. Get you home, boy. Come, we stay too long.


he was.


Changes to Ford's House.


Enter Falstaff and Mrs. Ford. Fal. Istrefs Ford, your forrow hath eaten up my

sufferance. I fee, 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 accoultrement, complement, and ceremony of it. But are you sure of your husband

Mrs. Ford. He's a birding, sweet Sir John.

Mrs. Page. ( within.) What hoa, goslip Ford! what hoa !



Mrs. Ford. Step into the chamber, Sir John.

[Exit Falstafi. Enter Mrs. Page. Mrs. Page. How now, sweet heart, who's at home besides yourself?

Mrs. Ford. Why, none but mine own people.
Mrs. Page. Indeed?
Mrs. Ford. No, certainly -Speak louder. [Afide.

Mrs. Page. Truly, I am so glad you have no body here.

Mrs. Ford. Why?

Mrs. 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-cut t, peer-out! that any madness I ever yet beheld seem'd but tameness, civility, and patience, to this distemper he is in now. I am glad, the fat knight is not here.

Mrs. Ford. Why, does he talk of him?

Mrs. Page. Of none but him; and twears, he was carry'd out, the last time he search'd 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 fufpicion ; but I am glad the knight is not here ; now he shall see his own foolery.

Mrs. Ford. How near is he, mistress Page?
Mrs. Page. Hard by, at street's end, he will be here


Mrs. Ford. I am undone, the knight is here.

Mrs. Page. Why, then thou art utterly fhain'd, and he's but a dead man. What a woman are you?-Away with him, away with him; better shame than murther.

* To take on, which is now passion. used for to grieve, seems to be + Peer-out,] That is, appear used by our author for to rage. horns. Shakespeare is at bis old Perhaps it was applied to any lanes.


Mrs. Ford. Which way should he go? how should I bestow him? fhall I put him into the basket again?


Enter Falstaff.


Fal. No, I'll come no more i’th’ basket': may I not go out, ere he come?

Mrs. Page. Alas! alas! three of master Ford's brothers watch the door with pistols, that none should irsue out, otherwise you might flip away ere he came. -But what make you here?

Fal. What shall I do? I'll creep up into the chimney.

Mrs. Ford. There they always use to discharge their birding-pieces; creep into the kill-hole.

Fal. Where is it?

Mrs. 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.

Fal, I'll go out then.

Mrs. Ford. If you go out in your own semblance, you die, Sir John, unless you go out disguis’d. How might-we disguise him?

Mrs. 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.

Fal. Good heart, devise something; any extremity, rather than mischief.

Mrs. Ford. My maid's aunt the fat woman of Brainford, has a gown above.

Mrs. Page. On my word, it will serve him; she's as big as he is, and there's her thruin hat, and her muffler too. Run up, Sir Jolin.


Mrs. Ford. Go, go, sweet Sir John; mistress Page and I will look fome linen for your head.

Mrs. Page. Quick, quick, we'll come dress you straight; put on the gown the while.

the while. [Exit Falstaff. Mrs. Ford. I would, my husband would meet him in this shape; he cannot abide the old woman of Brainford; he swears, she's a witch, forbade her my house, and hath threatned to beat her.

Mrs. Page. Heav'n guide him to thy husband's cudgel, and the devil guide his cudgel afterwards!

Mrs. Ford. But is my husband coming?

Mrs. Pagė. Ay, in good sadness, is he; and talks of the basket too, however he hath had intelligence.

Mrs. 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.

Mrs. Page. Nay, but he'll be here prefently; let's go dress him like the witch of Brainford.

Mrs. Ford. I'll first direct my men, what they shall do with the bajker. Go up, I'll bring linen for him straight.

Mrs. 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 fwine eat all the draugh.

Mrs. 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.

(Exeunt Mrs. Page and Mrs. Ford.

Enter Servants with the basket. 1 Serv. Come, come, take up.

2 Serv. Pray heav'n, it be not full of the knight again. 1 Serv. I hope not. I had as lief bear so much lead.


« AnteriorContinua »