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Mrs. Ford. Go to then ; we'll use this unwholsome humidity, this gross watry pumpion-we'll teach him to know turtles from jays.
SCE N E . VIII.
Fal. Have I caught thee, my heav'nly jewel? why, now let me die ! for I have liv'd long enough: this is the period of my ambition : O this blessed hour !
Mrs. Ford. O sweet Sir John !
Fal. Mistress Ford, I cannot cog; I cannot prate, mistress Ford Now shall I fin in
Now shall I fin in my with; I would, thy husband were dead; I'll speak it before the best lord, I would make thee my lady.
Mrs Ford. I your lady, Sir John ? alas, I should be a pitiful lady.
Fal. Let the Court of France shew ine such another; I see how thine eye would emulate the diamond: thoư haft the right arched bent of the brow, that becomes the ship-tire, the tire-valiant, or any Venetian attire.
that becomes the mip- her trin: with all her sénnants tire, the tire-VALIANT, or any out, and flags and streamers fly Venetian attire.) The old Quar. ing. Thus Milton, in Samfor to reads, Tire-vellet, and the old Agonistes, paints Dalla. Folio reads, Or any tire of Ve But who is this, what thing of netian admittance. So that the Jea or land? true reading of the whole is this, Female of sex it seems, That becomes the hip-tire, the tire That so bedeckt, ornate and gay, VALÍANT, or any 'tire of Vene Comes this way farling tian admittance. The speaker Like a stately frip tells his mistress, she had a face Of Tarsus, bound for 1B' Illes that would become all the head Of Javan, or Gadier, dresses in fashion. The ship-tire With all byer bravery on, and was an open head-dress, with a
tackle trin, kind of scarf depending from Sails fill'd, and fireamers wavbehind. Its name of jhip-lire ing, was, I presume, from its giving Courted by all the winds that the wearer some resemblance of
hold them play. à foip (as Shakespeare says) in all
Mrs. Ford. A plain kerchief, Sir John; my brows become nothing else, nor that well neither.
Fal. Thou art a tyrant to say so; thou would'st make an absolute Courtier ; and the firm fixture of thy foot would give an excellent motion to thy gate, in a femi-circled farthingale. I see what thou wert ; if fortune thy foe were not, nature is thy friend: come, thou canst not hide it.
Mrs. Ford. Believe me, there's no such thing in me.
Fal. What made me love thee? let that persuade thee, there's something extraordinary in thee. Come, I cannot cog, and say, thou art this and that, like amany of those lifping haw-thorn buds, that come like women in men's apparel, and smell like Buckler's- Bury This was an image familiar with pears from the impropriety of the poets of that time. Thus the word attire here used for a Beaumont and Fletcher, in their woman's bead-dress : whereas it play of Wit without Money,-- fignifies the dress of any part. She spreads Sattens as the King's We should read therefore, Or any ships do canvas every where, the 'tire of Venetian admittance. For may space her mifen ; &c. This the word attire, reduced by the will direct us to reform the fol- Aphæ efis, to 'rire, takes a new lowing word of tireóvaliant signification, and means only the which I suspect to be corrupt, head-dress. Hence Tire-woman, ivaliant being a very incongru- for a dresser of the head. As to ous epithet for a woman's head. the meaning of the latter part of dress. I suppose Shakespeare wrote the sentence, this may be seen by tire-vailant. As the ship-tire was a paraphrase of the whole speech, an open head-dress, so the tire Your face is so good, says vailant was a close one ; in which the speaker, that it would bethe head and breast were covered come any head dress worn at as with a vail. And these were, court, either the open or the in fact, the two different head- close, or indeed any rich and fadresses then in fashion, as we may Thionable one worth adorning see by the pictures of that time. with Venetian point, or which One of which was so open, that will admit 10 be adorned. [Of the whole neck, breasts and Venetian admittance.] The fashoulders, were open'd to view: fhionable lace, at that time, was the other, fo securely inclosed in Venetian point. WARBURTON, kerchiefs,&c. that nothing could This note is plausible, except be seen above the eyes or be- in the explanation of Venetian low the chin.
admiti ance : but I am afraid this or any Venetian attire.] whole system of dress is unsupThis is a wrong reading, as ap- ported by evidence.
in fimpling time; I cannot : but I love thee, none but thee, and thou deserv'st it.
Mrs. Ford. Do not betray me, Sir ; I fear, you love mistress Page.
Fal. Thou might'st as well say, I love to walk by the Counter-gate, which is as hateful to me as the reek of a line-kiln.
Mrs. Ford. Well, heav'n knows how I love you, and you shall one day find it.
Fal. Keep in that mind; I'll deserve it.
do; or else I could not be in that mind.
Rob. [within.] Mistress Ford, mistress Ford, here's mistress Page at the door, sweating, and blowing, and looking wildly, and would needs Ipeak with you prefently.
Fal. She shall not see me; I will ensconce me behind the arras.
Mrs. Ford. Pray you, do so; she's a very tattling woman.
[Falstaff hides himself.
Enter Mistress Page. What's the matter? how now?
Mrs. Page. O mistress Ford, what have you done? you're Tham'd, y’are overthrown, you are undone for
Mrs. Ford. What's the matter, good mistress Page?
Mrs. Page. O well-a-day, mistress Ford, having an honest man to your husband, to give him such cause of suspicion !
Mrs. Ford. What cause of suspicion ?
Mrs. Page. What cause of suspicion ?---out upon you !-how am I mistook in you?
Mrs. Ford. Why, alas ! what's the matter ?
with all the officers in Windfor, to search for a gentleman, that, he says, is here now in the house, by your consent, to take an ill advantage of his absence. You arę undone.
Mrs. Ford. Speaks louder-Afíde] 'Tis not so, I hope.
Mrs. Paze. Pray heav'n it bę not so, that you have such a man here, but 'tis most certain, your husband's coming with half Windsor at his heels, to search for such a one. I come before to tell you : if you know yourself clear, why, I am glad of it; but if you have a friend here, convey, convey him out. Be not amaz’d; call all your Senses to you, defend your reputation, or bid farewel to your good life for ever.
Mrs. Perd. What shall I do? there is a gentleman, my dear friend ; and I fear not mine own shame, so much as his peril. I had rather than a thousand pound, he were out of the house.
Mrs. Page. For shame, never stand you had rather and you had rather ; your husband's here at hand; bethink you of some conveyance, in the house you cannot hide him. Oh, how have you deceiv'd me? look, here is a basket, if he be of any reasonable stature, he may creep in here, and throw foul linen upon him, as if it were going to bucking: or it is whiting time, send him by your two men to Datchet-mead.
Mrs. Ford. He's too big to go in, there : what shall I do?
Fal. Let me see't, let me see't, o let me fee't. I'll in, I'll in. Follow your friend's counsel.--I'll in.
Mrs. Page. What! Sir John Falstaff? are these your letters, Knight?
Fal. I love thee-Help me away ; let me creep in here, I'll never (He goes into the basket, they cover him with foul linen.
Mrs. Page. Help to cover your master, boy ;-cali your men, mistress Ford. --You dissembling Knight!
Mrs. Ford. What, John, Robert, John, go take up these clothes here, quickly. Where's the cowl-staff? Look, how you drumble : carry thein to the landress in Datchet-mead ; quickly, come.
Enter Ford, Page, Caius, and Evans. Ford. Pray you, come near; if I suspect without cause, why then make sport at me, then lei me be your jest, I deserve it. How now? whither bear you this?
Serv. To the landrefs, forsooth.
Mrs. Ford. Why, what have you to do whither they bear it? You were best meddle with buck-washing.
Ford. Buck? I would, I could, wash myself of the buck. Buck, buck, buck ?
buck: I warrant you, buck, and of the seafon too, it shall appear. (Exeunt Servants with the basket.] Gentlemen, I have dream'd to-night, I'll tell you my dream. Here, here, here be my keys ; ascend my chambers, search, feek, find out, I'll warrant, we'll unkennel the fox. Let me stop this way first. So, now uncape'.
Page. Good master Ford, be contented; you wrong yourself too much.
Ford. True, master Page, Up, gentlemen, you fhall see sport anon ; follow me, gentlemen.
Eva. This is ferry fantastical humours and jealoufies.
Caius. By gar, 'tis no the fashion of France; it is not jealous in France.
So now uncape.) So the much as to say, take out the fout Folio of 1623 reads, and rightly. linnen under which the adulterer It is a term in Fox hunting, lies hid. The Oxford Editor which fignifies to dig out the Fox reads uncouple, out of pure love when earth’d. And here is as to an emendation,