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_ ACT III. SCENE III.
FORD'S house.
[Enter MISTRESS FORD and MISTRESS PAGE.]
MRS. FORD.
What, John! what, Robert!
MRS. PAGE.
Quickly, quickly! Is the buck-basket-
MRS. FORD.
I warrant. What, Robin, I say!
[Enter SERVANTS with a basket.]
MRS. PAGE.
Come, come, come.
MRS. FORD.
Here, set it down.
MRS. PAGE.
Give your men the charge; we must be brief.
MRS. FORD.
Marry, as I told you before, John and Robert, be
ready here hard by in the brew-house; and when I suddenly
call you, come forth, and, without any pause or
staggering, take this basket on your shoulders. That done,
trudge with it in all haste, and carry it among the whitsters
in Datchet Mead, and there empty it in the muddy ditch
close by the Thames side.
MRS. PAGE.
You will do it?
MRS. FORD.
I ha' told them over and over; they lack no
direction. Be gone, and come when you are call'd.
[Exeunt SERVANTS.]
MRS. PAGE.
Here comes little Robin.
[Enter ROBIN.]
MRS. FORD.
How now, my eyas-musket, what news with you?
ROBIN.
My Master Sir John is come in at your back-door,
Mistress Ford, and requests your company.
MRS. PAGE.
You little Jack-a-Lent, have you been true to us?
ROBIN.
Ay, I'll be sworn. My master knows not of your
being here, and hath threat'ned to put me into everlasting
liberty, if I tell you of it; for he swears he'll turn me away.
MRS. PAGE.
Thou 'rt a good boy; this secrecy of thine shall
be a tailor to thee, and shall make thee a new
doublet and hose. I'll go hide me.
MRS. FORD.
Do so. Go tell thy master I am alone.
[Exit ROBIN.]
Mistress Page, remember you your cue.
MRS. PAGE.
I warrant thee; if I do not act it, hiss me.
[Exit MRS. PAGE.]
MRS. FORD.
Go to, then; we'll use this unwholesome
humidity, this gross wat'ry pumpion; we'll teach him to
know turtles from jays.
[Enter FALSTAFF.]
FALSTAFF.
Have I caught thee, my heavenly 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!
FALSTAFF.
Mistress Ford, I cannot cog, I cannot prate,
Mistress Ford. Now shall I sin in my wish; 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.
FALSTAFF.
Let the court of France show me such another. I
see how thine eye would emulate the diamond; thou hast
the right arched beauty of the brow that becomes the
ship-tire, the tire-valiant, or any tire of Venetian
admittance.
MRS. FORD.
A plain kerchief, Sir John; my brows become
nothing else, nor that well neither.
FALSTAFF.
By the Lord, thou art a tyrant to say so; thou
wouldst make an absolute courtier, and the firm fixture of
thy foot would give an excellent motion to thy gait in a
semi-circled farthingale. I see what thou wert, if Fortune
thy foe were, not Nature, thy friend. Come, thou canst not
hide it.
MRS. FORD.
Believe me, there's no such thing in me.
FALSTAFF.
What made me love thee? Let that persuade thee
there's something extra-ordinary in thee. Come, I cannot
cog, and say thou art this and that, like a many of these
lisping hawthorn-buds that come like women in men's
apparel, and smell like Bucklersbury in simple 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.
FALSTAFF.
Thou mightst as well say I love to walk by the
Counter-gate, which is as hateful to me as the reek of a
lime-kiln.
MRS. FORD.
Well, heaven knows how I love you; and you
shall one day find it.
FALSTAFF.
Keep in that mind; I'll deserve it.
MRS. FORD.
Nay, I must tell you, so you do; or else I could
not be in that mind.
ROBIN.
[Within]
Mistress Ford, Mistress Ford! here's
Mistress Page at the door, sweating and blowing and
looking wildly, and would needs speak with you presently.
FALSTAFF.
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.]
[Re-enter MISTRESS PAGE and ROBIN.]
What's the matter? How now!
MRS. PAGE.
O Mistress Ford, what have you done? You're
sham'd, y'are overthrown, y'are undone for ever.
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?
MRS. PAGE.
Your husband's coming hither, woman, with all
the officers in Windsor, 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 are undone.
MRS. FORD.
'Tis not so, I hope.
MRS. PAGE.
Pray heaven it be 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 farewell to your good life for ever.
MRS. FORD.
What shall I do? There is a gentleman, my dear
friend; and I fear not mine own shame as 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. O,
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?
FALSTAFF.
[Coming forward]
Let me see 't, let me see 't. O,
let me see 't! I'll in, I'll in;
follow your friend's counsel; I'll in.
MRS. PAGE.
What, Sir John Falstaff!
[Aside to FALSTAFF]
Are these your letters, knight?
FALSTAFF.
[Aside to MRS. PAGE]
I love thee and none but
thee; help me away.-Let me creep in here; I'll never-
[Gets into the basket; they cover him with foul linen]
MRS. PAGE.
Help to cover your master, boy. Call your men,
Mistress Ford. You dissembling knight!
MRS. FORD.
What, John! Robert! John!
[Exit ROBIN.]
[Re-enter SERVANTS.]
Go, take up these clothes here, quickly; where's the
cowl-staff? Look how you drumble. Carry them to the laundress
in Datchet Mead; quickly, come.
[Enter FORD, PAGE, CAIUS, and SIR HUGH EVANS.]
FORD.
Pray you come near. If I suspect without cause, why
then make sport at me, then let me be your jest; I deserve
it. How now, whither bear you this?
SERVANT.
To the laundress, 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! ay, buck! I warrant you, buck; and of
the season too, it shall appear.
[Exeunt SERVANTS with basket.]
Gentlemen, I have dream'd to-night; I'll tell you my
dream. Here, here, here be my keys; ascend my chambers,
search, seek, find out. I'll warrant we'll unkennel the fox.
Let me stop this way first.
[Locking the door]
So, now uncape.
PAGE.
Good Master Ford, be contented; you wrong yourself too much.
FORD.
True, Master Page. Up, gentlemen, you shall see sport
anon; follow me, gentlemen.
[Exit.]
EVANS.
This is fery fantastical humours and jealousies.
CAIUS.
By gar, 'tis no the fashion of France;
it is not jealous in France.
PAGE.
Nay, follow him, gentlemen;
see the issue of his search.
[Exeunt EVANS, PAGE, and CAIUS.]
MRS. PAGE.
Is there not a double excellency in this?
MRS. FORD.
I know not which pleases me better, that my
husband is deceived, or Sir John.
MRS. PAGE.
What a taking was he in when your husband
ask'd who was in the basket!
MRS. FORD.
I am half afraid he will have need of washing; so
throwing him into the water will do him a benefit.
MRS. PAGE.
Hang him, dishonest rascal! I would all of the
same strain were in the same distress.
MRS. FORD.
I think my husband hath some special suspicion
of Falstaff's being here, for I never saw him
so gross in his jealousy till now.
MRS. PAGE.
I Will lay a plot to try that, and we will yet have
more tricks with Falstaff. His dissolute disease
will scarce obey this medicine.
MRS. FORD.
Shall we send that foolish carrion, Mistress
Quickly, to him, and excuse his throwing into the water,
and give him another hope, to betray him to another punishment?
MRS. PAGE.
We will do it; let him be sent for to-morrow
eight o'clock, to have amends.
[Re-enter FORD, PAGE, CAIUS, and SIR HUGH EVANS.]
FORD.
I cannot find him; may be the knave bragg'd of that
he could not compass.
MRS. PAGE.
[Aside to MRS. FORD]
Heard you that?
MRS. FORD.
You use me well, Master Ford, do you?
FORD.
Ay, I do so.
MRS. FORD.
Heaven make you better than your thoughts!
FORD.
Amen.
MRS. PAGE.
You do yourself mighty wrong, Master Ford.
FORD.
Ay, ay; I must bear it.
EVANS.
If there be any pody in the house, and in the
chambers, and in the coffers, and in the presses, heaven
forgive my sins at the day of judgment!
CAIUS.
Be gar, nor I too; there is no bodies.
PAGE.
Fie, fie, Master Ford, are you not asham'd? What
spirit, what devil suggests this imagination? I would not ha'
your distemper in this kind for the wealth of Windsor Castle.
FORD.
'Tis my fault, Master Page; I suffer for it.
EVANS.
You suffer for a pad conscience. Your wife is as
honest a omans as I will desires among five
thousand, and five hundred too.
CAIUS.
By gar, I see 'tis an honest woman.
FORD.
Well, I promis'd you a dinner. Come, come, walk in
the Park. I pray you pardon me; I will hereafter make
known to you why I have done this. Come, wife, come,
Mistress Page; I pray you pardon me; pray heartly, pardon me.
PAGE.
Let's go in, gentlemen; but, trust me, we'll mock him.
I do invite you to-morrow morning to my house to breakfast;
after, we'll a-birding together; I have a fine hawk for
the bush. Shall it be so?
FORD.
Any thing.
EVANS.
If there is one, I shall make two in the company.
CAIUS.
If there be one or two, I shall make-a the turd.
FORD.
Pray you go, Master Page.
EVANS.
I pray you now, remembrance to-morrow on the
lousy knave, mine host.
CAIUS.
Dat is good; by gar, with all my heart.
EVANS.
A lousy knave, to have his gibes and his mockeries!
[Exeunt.] _
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