Imatges de pàgina
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of fouls, and you a curer of bodies: if you should fight, you go against the hair of your professions: Is it not true, master Page?

Page: Master Shallow, you have yourself been a great fighter, tho' now a man of peace.

Sbal. Body-kins, Mr. Page, tho' I now be old, and of peace, if I fee a sword out, my finger itches to make one; tho' we are justices, and doctors, and churchmen, Mr. Page, we have fome salt of our youth in us; we are the fons of women, Mr. Pages

Page. 'Tis true, Mr. Shallow.

Shal. It will be found so, Mr. Page. Mr. Doctor Caius, I am come to fetch you home, I am sworn of the peace; you have shew'd yourself a wife physician, and Sir Hugh hath shown himself a wife and patient church-man: you must go with me, Mr. Doctor.

Hoft. Pardon, guest-justice; a word, Monfieur mock-water.

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Caius. Mock-vater? vat is dat?

Hoft. Mock-water, in our English tongue, is valour,

bully.

59 Caius. By gar, then I have as much mock-vater as de Englishman, scurvy-jack-dog-prieft; by gar, me vill cut his ears.

Hoft. He will clapper-claw thee tightly, bully.

Caius. Clapper-de-claw? vat is dat?

Hoft. That is, he will make thee amends.

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Caius. By gar, me do look, he shall clapper-de-claw

me; for by gar, me vill have it.

Hoft. And I will provoke him to't, or let him wag. Caius. Me tank you for dat.

Host. And moreover, bully: but first, Mr. Guest, and Mr. Page, and eek Cavaliero Slender, go you through the town to Frogmore.

Page. Sir Hugh is there, is he?

Hoft. He is there; fee, what humour he is in; and I will bring the Doctor about the fields: will it do

well?

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Shal. We will do it..

All. Adieu, good Mr. Doctor.

[Exeunt Page, Shallow and Slender.

Caius. By gar, me vill kilt de prieft; for he fpeak

for a jack-an-ape to Anne Page.

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Hoft. Let him die; but, first, sheath thy impatience; throw cold water on thy choler; go about the fields with me through Frogmore; 5 I will bring thee where mistress Anne Page is, at a farm-house a feasting; and thou shalt woo her. Cry aim, faid I well?

5.1 will bring thee where Anne Page is, at a farm-bause a feasting; and thou shalt woo her, CRY'D GAME; Said I well?] Mr. Theobald alters this nonsense to try'd game; that is, to nonfense of a worse complexion. Shakespear wrote and pointed thus, CRY AIM, said I well? i. e. consent to it, approve of it. Have not I made a good proposal? for to cry aim fignifies to confent to, or approve of any thing. So again in this play, p. 300, And to these violent proceedings all my neighbours shall CRY AIM, i. e. approve them. And again in King John, Act 2. Scene 2. It ill becomes this presence to CRY AIM To these ill-tuned repetitions,

. to approve of, or encourage them. The phrase was taken, originally, from archery. When any one had challenged another to shoot at the butts (the perpetual diversion, as well as exercise, of that time) the standers-by used to say one to the other, Cry aim, i. e. accept the challenge. Thus Beaumont and Fletcher, in the Fair maid of the inn, Act 5, make the Duke say, ;

must I cry AIME

To this unheard of insolence

i e. encourage it, and agree to the request of the duel, which one of his subjects had infolently demanded against the other. here it is remarkable, that the senseless editors not knowing what

to make of the phrase Cry aim, read it thus,

But

must I cry AI-ME: As if it was a note of

interjection. So again Maffinger in his Guardian,

I will CRY AIM, and in another room

Determine of my vengeance

And again, in his Renegado,

to play the Pandor

To the Viceroy's loofe embraces, and CRY AIM,

While he by force or flattery

But the Oxford Editor transforms it to Cock o' th' Game; and his improvements of Shakespear's language abound with these modern elegancies of speech, such as Mynbeers, Bull baitings, &c.

Caius. By gar, me tank you vor dat: by gar, I love you; and I shall procure 'a you de good guest; de Earl, de Knight, de Lords, de Gentlemen, my patients.

Haft. For the which I will be thy adversary toward

Anne Page: faid I well?

Caius. By gar, 'tis good; vell faid.

Hoft. Let us wag then.

Caius. Come at my heels, Jack Rugby.

[Exeunt.

T

I

ACT III. SCENE I.

Frogmore, near Windfor.
Enter Evans and Simple.

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Pray you now, good master Slender's servingman, and friend Simple by your name, which way have you look'd for master Caius, that calls himself

Doctor of Physick?

Simp. Marry, Sir, the Pitty-wary, the Park-ward, every way, old Windfor way, and every way but the town way.

Eva. I most fehemently defire you, you will alfo look that way.

Simp. I will, Sir.

Eva. 'Plefs my foul, how full of chollars I am, and trempling of mind! I shall be glad, if he have deceiv'd me; how melanchollies I am! I will knog his urinals about his knave's costard, when I have good opportunities for the orke: 'Pless my foul!

[Sings, being afraid.

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By Shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds fing madrigalls
There will we make our peds of roses,
And a thousand vragrant pofies.

By Shallow-'Mercy on me! I have a great difpofitions to cry. Melodious birds fing madrigalls-When as I fat in Pabilon; and a thousand vragrant pofies. By shallow, &c.

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2. Simp.

1 By shallow rivers, &c.] This is part of a beautiful little poem of the author's, which poem, and the answer to it, the reader will not be displeased to find here.

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The Passionate Shepherd to his Love.

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Live with me, and be my Love,
And we will all the Pleasure prove,
That Hills and Vallies, Dale and Field,
And all the craggy Mountains yield.
There will we fit upon the Rocks,
And fee the Shepherds feed their Flocks,
By shallow Rivers, by whose Falls:
Melodious Birds sing Madrigales.
There will I make thee Beds of Roses,
With a thousand fragrant Posies;
A Cap of Flowers, and a Girdle
Imbroider'd all with leaves of Myrtle;
A Gown made of the finest Wool,
Which from our pretty Lambs we pull;
Fair lined Slippers for the cold,
With Buckles of the purest Gold; סימן
A Belt of Straw, and Ivie Buds,

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With Coral Clasps, and Amber Studs.
And if these Pleasures may thee move,
Then live with me, and be my Lovew
The Shepherds Swains shall dance and fing,

For thy Delight each May Morning.
If these Delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me, and be my Love.

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Simp. Yonder he is coming, this way, Sir Hugh. Eva. He's welcome. By shallow rivers, to whose

falls

Heav'n profper the right! what weapons is he?
Simp. No weapons, Sir; there comes my master.
Mr. Shallow, and another gentleman from Frogmore,
over the stile, this way.

Eva. Pray you, give me my gown, or else keep it in your arms.

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The Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd.

If that the World and Love were young,
And Truth in every Shepherd's Tongue;
These pretty Pleasures might me move,
To live with thee, and be thy Love.
Time drives the Flocks from Field to Fold,
When Rivers rage, and Rocks grow cold;
And Philomel becometh dumb,
And all complain of Cares to come:
The Flowers do fade, and wanton Fields
To wayward Winter reckoning yields.
A honey Tongue, a Heart of Gall,
Is Fancy's Spring, but Sorrow's Fall.
Thy Gowns, thy Shoes, thy Bed of Rofes,
Thy Cap, thy Girdle, and thy Posses:
Some break, some wither, fome forgotten, ge

In Folly ripe, in Reason rotten.

Thy Belt of Straw and Ivie Buds,

Thy Coral Clafps and Amber Studs,

All these in me no means can move,

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To come to thee, and be thy LoveY

But could Youth last, and Love still breed,

Had Joys no date, and Age no need;

Then these Delights my Mind might move,

To live with thee, and be thy Love.

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