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Quic. Does he not wear a great round beard, like a glover's paring-knife?


Sim. No, forfooth; he hath but a little wee-face, with a little yellow beard, a Cain-colour'd beard. Quic. A foftly-fprighted man, is he not?

Sim. Ay, forfooth; but he is as tall a man of his hands, as any is between this and his head: he hath fought with a warrener.

Quic. How fay you? oh, I fhould remember him; does he not hold up his head, as it were? and ftrut in his gate


Sim. Yes, indeed, does he.

Quic. Well, heav'n fend Anne Page no worse for tune! Tell mafter parfon Evans, I'll do what I can for your master: Anne is a good girl, and I wifh

Enter Rugby.

Rug. Out, alas! here comes my master.

Quic. We fhall all be fhent; run in here, good young man; go into this clofet ; [buts Simple in the clofet.] He will not ftay long. What, John Rugby! John! what, John, I fay; go, John, go enquire for my mafter; I doubt, he be not well, that he comes not home and down, down, a-down-a, &c. [Sings.

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Caius. Vat is you fing? I do not like des toys; pray you, go and vetch me in my clofet un boitier verd; a box, a green-a box; do intend vat I fpeak? a green-a


a cane-colour'd beard.] Thus the latter Editions. I have reftor'd with the old Copies.

Cain, and Judas, in the Tape ftries, and Pictures of old, were reprefented with yellow Beards.


Quic. Ay, forfooth, I'll fetch it you.

I am glad, he went not in himself; if he had found the young man, he would have been horn-mad. [Afide. Caius. Fe, fe, fe, fe, mai foi, il fait ford chaud, je m'en vaie à la Cour la grande affaire.

Quic. Is it this, Sir?

Caius. Ouy, mettez le au mon pocket; Depechez, quickly; ver is dat knave Rugby?

Quic. What, John Rugby! John!

Rug. Here, Sir.

Caius. You are John Rugby, and you are Jack Rugby; come, take-a your rapier, and come after my heel to the Court.

Rug. 'Tis ready, Sir, here in the porch.

Caius. By my trot, I tarry too long: od's me! Qu* ay j'oubliè? dere is fome fimples in my closet, dat I will not for the varld I fhall leave behind.

Quic. Ay-me, he'll find the young man there, and be mad.

Caius. O Diable, Diable! vat is in my closet? villaine, Larron! Rugby, my rapier.

[Pulls Simple out of the clofet.

Quic. Good mafter be content.

Caius. Wherefore fhall I be content-a?
Quic. The young man is an honeft man.

Caius. What fhall de honeft man do in my closet? dere is no honeft man, dat fhall come in my closet. Quic. I befeech you, be not fo flegmatick; hear the truth of it. He came of an errand to me from parfon Hugh.

Caius. Vell.

Sim. Ay, forfooth, to defire her to ———

Quic. Peace, I pray you.

Caius. Peace-a your tongue.-Speak-a your tale. Sim. To defire this honeft gentlewoman, your maid, to fpeak a good word to miftrefs Anne Page for my mafter in the way of marriage,

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Quic. This is all, indeed-la; but I'll never put my finger in the fire, and need not.

Caius. Sir Hugh fend-a-you? Rugby, baillez me fome paper; tarry you a little while.

Quic. I am glad he is fo quiet; if he had been thoroughly moved, you fhould have heard him fo loud, and fo melancholy.-But notwithstanding, man, I'll do for your mafter what good I can; and the very yea and the no is, the French Doctor my mafter. (I may call him my mafter, look you, for I keep his house, and I waíh, wring, brew, bake, fcour, drefs meat and drink, make the beds, and do all myself.)

Sim. 'Tis a great charge to come under one body's hand.

Quic. Are you a-vis'd o' that? you shall find it a great charge; and to be up early and down late.-But notwithstanding, to tell you in your ear, I would have no words of it, my mafter himself is in love with mifrefs Anne Page; but, notwithstanding that, I know Anne's mind, that's neither here nor there.

Caius. You jack'nape; give-a this letter to Sir Hugh; by gar, it is a fhallenge: I will cut his throat in de parke, and I will teach a fcurvy jack-a-nape prieft to meddle or make you may be gone; it is not good you tarry here; by gar, I will cut all his two ftones; by gar, he fhall not have a ftone to trow at his dog. [Exit Simple. Quic. Alas, he speaks but for his friend. Caius. It is no matter'a ver dat: do you not tell-a-me, dat I fhall have Anne Page for myfelf? by gar, I vill kill de jack prieft; and I have appointed mine hoft of de Jarterre to meafure our weapon; by gar, I will myfelf have Anne Page.

Quic. Sir, the maid loves you, and all fhall be well: we must give folks leave to prate; what, the goujere! Caius. Rugby, come to the Court with me;

by gar, if I have not Anne Page, I fhall turn your

head out of my door;

-follow my heels, Rugby. [Ex. Caius and Rugby. དྷ་ Quic. You fhall have An fools-head of your own. No, I know Anne's mind for that; never a Woman in Windfor knows more of Anne's mind than I do, nor can do more than I do with her, I thank heav'n.

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Fent. (within.) Who's within there, hoa?

Quic. Who's there, I trow, come near the house I pray you.


Enter Mr. Fenton.

Fent. How now, good woman, how doft thou?
Quic. The better, that it pleases your good worship

to ask.

Fent. What news? how does pretty miftrefs Anne? Quic. In truth, Sir, and the is pretty, and honeft, and gentle; and one that is your friend, I can tell you that by the way, I praise heav'n for it.

Fent. Shall I do any good, think'ft thou? fhall I not lofe my fuit?

Quic. Troth, Sir, all is in his hands above; but notwithstanding, master Fenton, I'll be fworn on a book, fhe loves you-Have not your worship a wart above your eye?

Fent. Yes, marry, have I? and what of that?

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Quic. Well, thereby hangs a tale; good faith, it is fuch another Nan; but, I deteft, an honest maid as ever broke bread; we had an hour's talk of that wart:— I fhall never laugh but in that maid's company!-But, indeed, the is given too much to allicholly and mufing; but for you- -Wellgo to

Fent. Well, I fhall fee her to day; hold, there's ' mony for thee: let me have thy voice in my behalf; if thou feeft her before me, commend me

Quic. Will I? ay, faith, that we will: and I will

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tell your worship more of the wart, the next time we have confidence, and of other wooers.

Fen. Well, farewel, I am in great hafte now. [Exit. Quic. Farewel to your worship. Truly, an honeft gentleman, but Anne loves him not; I know Anne's mind as well as another does. Out upon't, what have I forgot? [Exit.




Before Page's House.

Enter Mrs. Page, with a Letter.

Mrs. PAGE.

HAT, have I scap'd love-letters in the holyday-time of my beauty, and am I now a fubject for them? let me fee:

Afk me no reafon, why I love you; for tho' love ufe reafon for his precifians, he admits him not for his counfellor: you are not young, no more am I; go to then,

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