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Slen. What hoe! hoe! father Page:
Page. Son, how now? how now, fon, have you dispatch'd?
Slen. Difpatch'd? I'll make the best in Gloucestershire know on't; would I were hang'd la, else. Page. Of what, fon?
Slen. I came yonder at Eaton to marry mistress Anne Page, and he's a great lubberly boy. If it had not been i'th' church, I would have fwing'd him, or he fhould have fwing'd me. If I did not think it had been Anne Page, would I might never stir, and 'tis a postmaster's boy.
Page. Upon my life, then you took the wrong. Slen. What need you tell me that? I think fo, when I took a boy for a girl: if I had been marry'd to him, for all he was in woman's apparel, I would not have had him.
Page. Why, this is your own folly. Did not I tell you, how you should know my daughter by her garments?
Slen. I went to her in white and cry'd mum, and the cry'd budget, as Anne and I had appointed; and yet it was not Anne, but a post-master's boy.
Eva. Jefhu! Mafter Slender, cannot you fee but marry boys?
Page. O, I am vext at heart. What shall I do? Mrs. Page. Good George, be not angry; I knew of your purpofe, turn'd my daughter into green, and, indeed, he is now with the Doctor at the Deanry, and there married.
Caius. Ver is miftrefs Page? by gar, I am cozen'd; I ha' marry'd one garfoon, a boy; one peasant, by gar; a boy; it is not Anne Page; by gar, I am cozen'd. Mrs. Page. Why? did you not take her in green Caius. Ay, be gar, and 'tis a boy; be gar, I'll raife all Windfor.
Ford. This is ftrange! who hath got the right Anne?
Enter Fenton, and Anne Page,
How now, Mr. Fenton?
Anne. Pardon, good father; good my mother, par
Page. Now, miftrefs, how chance you went not with Mr. Slender?
Mrs. Page. Why went you not with Mr. Doctor, maid?
Fent. You do amaze her: Hear the truth of it.
A thousand irreligious curfed hours,
Fal. I am glad, tho' you have ta'en a fpecial Stand to ftrike at me, that your arrow hath glanc'd. *Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heav'n give thee joy!
What cannot be efchew'd, must be embrac'd. Eva. I will alfo dance and eat plums at your Wedding.
Fal. When night-dogs run, all forts of deer are chac’d.
Mrs. Page. Well, I will mufe no further. Mr. Fenton,
Heav'n give you many, many merry days!
Ford. Let it be fo:Sir John,
*In the firft fketch of this play, which, as Mr. Pope obferves, is much inferiour to the latter performance, the only fenti
ment of which I regret the omiffion occurs at this critical time, when Fenton brings in his wife, there is this dialogue.
Mrs. Ford. Come, Miftrefs Page, I must be bold with you, 'Tis pity to part love that is fo true.
Mrs. Page. [afide.] Although that I have miffed in my intent, Yet I am glad my husband's match is croffed.
Here, Fenton, take her.
Eva. Come, Mafter Page, you must needs agree.
Ford. I'faith, Sir, come, you fee your wife is pleased.
And yet it doth me good the doctor miffed.
The END of the SECOND VOLUM E.