Believe it, Page, he speaks sense. [Exit Piftol. Ford. I will be patient; I will find out this. Nym. And this is true: I like not the humour of lying; he hath wrong'd me in fome humours: I fhould have born the humour'd letter to her; but I have a fword, and it fhall bite upon my neceffity He loves your wife; there's the fhort and the long.My name is Corporal Nym; I speak, and I avouch; 'tis true-my name is Nym, and Falstaff loves your Wife.—Adieu; I love not the humour of bread and cheese adieu. [Exit Nym. Page. The humour of it, quoth a'! here's a fellow, frights humour out of its wits.. Ford. I will feek out Falstaff. Page. I never heard fuch a drawling, affecting rogue. Ford. If I do find it: well. Page. I will not believe fuch a 2 Cataian, tho' the prieft o' th' town commended him for a true man. Ford. 'Twas a good fenfible fellow — well. Away, Sir corporal. I have a fword, and it fall he loves your wife, &c.] SCENE mon than you may, upon a need, thus. Nym, to gain credit, fays, that he is above the mean office of carrying love-letters; he has nobler means of living; he has a favord, and upon his neceffity, that is, when his need drives him to unlawful expedients, his fword ball bite. 2 I will not believe fuch a Cataian.] Mr. Theobald has here a pleasant note, as usual. This is a piece of fatire that did not want its force at the time of this play's appearing; tho the history on which it is grounded is become obfolete. And then tells a long ftory of Martin Frobisher attempting the north-weft paffage, and bringing home a black-stone, as ; SCENE IV. Mrs. Page and Mrs. Ford come forwards. Page. How now, Meg? Mrs. Page. Whither go you, George?-hark you. Mrs. Ford. How now, fweet Frank, why art thou melancholy? Ford. I melancholy! I am not melancholy. - Get you home, go. Mrs. Ford. Faith, thou haft fome crotchets in thy head now-Will you go, miftrefs Page? ers. Mrs. Page. Have with you. You'll come to din as he thought, full of gold-ore: that it proved not fo, and that therefore Cataians and Frobishers became by-words for vain boaftThe whole is an idle dream. All the mystery of the term Cataian, for a liar, is only this. China was anciently called Cataia or Cathay, by the firit adventurers that travelled thither; fuch as M. Paulo, and our Mandeville, who told fuch incredible wonders of this new difcovered empire, (in which they have not been outdone even by the Jefuits themselves, who followed them) that a notorious liar was ufually called a Cataian. WARBURTON. Mr. Theobald and Dr. Warburton have both told their ftories with confidence, I am afraid, very difproportionate to any evidence that can be produced. That Cataian was a word of haured or contempt is plain, but that it fignified a boafter or a liar has not been proved. Sir Toby in Twelfth-Night fays of the Lady Olivia to her maid thy Lady's a Cataian; but there is no reafon to think he means to call her liar. Befides, Page intends to give Ford a reason why Pistol fhould not be credited. He therefore does not fay, I would not believe fuch a liar: for that he is a liar is yet to be made probable: but he fays, I would not believe fuch a Cataian on any tefiimony of his veracity. That is: This fellow has fuch an odd apfearance; is fo unlike a man civilized, and taught the duties of life, that I cannot credit him. To be a foreigner was always in England, and I fuppofe every where effe, a reafon of diflike. So Piftol calls Slender in the firft act, a mountain foreigner; that is, a fellow uneducated and of grofs behaviour; and again in his anger calls Bardolph, › Hungarian wight. ner, " ner, George?--Look, who comes yonder: fhe shall be our meffenger to this paultry Knight. [Afide to Mrs. Ford. Enter Mistress Quickly. Mrs. Ford. Trust me, I thought on her, fhe'll fit it. Mrs. Page. You are come to fee my daughter Anne? Quick. Ay, forfooth; and, I pray, how does good miftrefs Anne? Mrs. Page. Go in with us, and fee; we haye an hour's talk with you. [Ex. Mrs. Page, Mrs. Ford, and Mrs. Quickly. SCENE Page. How now, mafter Ford? V. Ford. You heard what this knave told me, did you not? Page. Yes; and you heard what the other told me? Ford. Do you think there is truth in them? Page. Hang 'em, flaves; I do not think, the Knight would offer it; but thefe, that accufe him in his intent towards our wives, are a yoak of his difcarded men; 3 very rogues, now they be out of fer vice. Ford. Were they his men? Page. Marry, were they. Ford. I like it never the better for that. Does he lye at the Garter? Page. Ay, marry, does he. If he should intend his voyage towards my wife, I would turn her loofe to him; and what he gets more of her than sharp words, let it lye on my head. Ford. I do not mifdoubt my wife, but I would be 3 Very rogues, now they be out or vagabond, and, in its confeof fervice.] A rogue is a wanderer quential fignification, a cheat. loth loth to turn them together; a man may be too confident; I would have nothing lye on my head; I cannot be thus fatisfy'd. Page. Look, where my ranting Hoft of the Gartér comes; there is either liquor in his pate, or money in his purse, when he looks fo merrily. How, now, mine Hoft? SCENE VI. Enter Hoft and Shallow. Hoft. How, now, bully Rock? thou'rt a gentleman; cavalero-juftice, I fay. Shal. I follow, mine Hoft, I follow. Good even and twenty, good mafter Page. Mafter Page, will you go with us? we have sport in hand. Hoft. Tell him, cavaliero justice; tell him, bully Rock? Shal. Sir, there is a fray to be fought between Sir Hugh the Welch prieft, and Caius the French doctor. Ford. Good mine Hoft o' th' Garter, a word with you. Hoft. What fay'ft thou, bully Rock? [They go a little afide. Shal. [To Page. Will you go with us to behold it? my merry Host hath had the meafuring of their Weapons, and, I think, he hath appointed them contrary places; for, believe me, I hear, the parfon is no jester. Hark, I will tell you what our sport shall be. Hoft. Haft thou no fuit against my Knight, my gueft-cavalier? Ford. None, I proteft; but I'll give you a pottle of burnt fack to give me recourfe to him, and tell him, my name is Brook; only for a jest. 4 And tell him, my Name is Brook; ] Thus both the old VOL. II. Hoft 1 Hoft. My hand, bully. Thou fhalt have egrefs and regrefs; faid I well? and thy name shall be Brook. It is a merry Knight. 5 Will you go an-heirs? Shal. Have with you, mine hoft. Page. I have heard, the Frenchman hath good skill in his rapier. In Shal. Tut, Sir, I could have told you more. these times you stand on distance, your paffes, ftoccado's, and I know not what. 'Tis the heart,mafter Page; 'tis here, 'tis here. I have feen the time with my 'long fword, I would have made you four tall fellows fkip like rats. Hoft. Here, boys, here, here: fhall we wag? Page. Have with you; I had rather hear them fcold than fight. [Exeunt Hoft, Shallow and Page. Ford. Tho' Page be a fecure fool, and ftand fo firmly better Evidence, than the Pun that Falstaff anon makes on the Name, when Brook fends him fome burnt Sack. Such Brooks are welcome to me, th toverflow with fuch Liquor. The Players, in their Editions, altered the Name to Broom. THEOBALD 5 Will you g' AN HEIRS This nonfenfe is fpoken to Shailaw. We fhould read, Will you go ON, HERIS? i. e. Will you go on, Mafter. Heris, an old Scotch word for mafter. WARBURTON. 6 My long fword] Not long before the introduction of rapiers, the fwords in ufe were of an enormous length, and fometimes raised with both hands. Shallow, with an old man's vanity, cenfures the innovation by which lighter weapons were introduced, tells what he could once have done with his long word, and ridicules the terms and rules of the rapier. 7 And ftand fo firmly on his Wife's Frailty.] No furely; Page ftood tightly to the opinion of her Honesty, and would not entertain a Thought of her being frail. I have therefore ventured to fubftitute a Word correfpondent to the Senfe requir'd; and one, which our Poet frequently uses, to fignify conjugal faith. THEOBALD. ftand fo firmly on his wife's frailty. ] Thus all the copies. But Mr. Theobald has no concep tion how any man could stand firmly on his wife's frailty. And why? Because he had no conception how he could ftand upon it, without knowing what it was. But if I tell a ftranger, that the bridge he is about to cross is rot ten, |