Slen. WHA

THAT 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, son?

Slen. I came yonder at Eaton to marry mistress Anne Page, and fhe'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 ftir, and 'tis a poft-master's boy.

Page. Upon my life, then you took the wrong.

Slen. What need you tell me that? I think so, 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 cried mum, and fhe cry'd budget, as Anne and I had appointed; and it was not Anne, but a poft-mafter's boy.

Eva. Jefhu! Mafter Slender, cannot you fee but marry boys?

Page. O, I am vext at heart. What fhall I do? Mrs. Page. Good George, be not angry; I knew of your purpose, turn'd my daughter into green, and, indeed, fhe is now with the Doctor at the Deanry, and there married.

SCENE

ER is mistress Page? by gar,

I

am cozen'd;

Gaius. I ha' marry'd one garsoon, 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, by gar, and 'tis a boy; be gar, I'll raise all Windfor.

Ford. This is ftrange! who hath got the right Anne?
Page. My heart mifgives me; here comes Mr. Fenton.
Enter Fenton, and Anne Page.

How now, Mr. Fenton?

Anne. Pardon, good father; good my mother, pardon.

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.
You would have marry'd her moft shamefully,
Where there was no proportion held in love:
The truth is, she and I, long fince contracted,
Are now so sure, that nothing can difsolve us.
Th' offence is holy, that fhe hath committed ;]
And this deceit lofes the name of craft,
Of disobedience, or unduteous title;

Since therein fhe doth evitate and and shun]
A thousand irreligious curfed hours,

Which forced marriage would have brought upon her.
Ford. Stand not amaz'd, here is no remedy.
In love, the heav'ns themselves do guide the ftate;
Money buys lands, and wives are fold by fate.
Fal. I am glad, tho' you have ta'en a fpecial Stand
to ftrike at me, that your arrow hath glanc'd.

Page.

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 plumbs at your Wedding.

Fal. When nightdogs run, all forts of deer are chas'd.

Mrs. Page. Well, I will mufe no further. Mr. Fenton, Heav'n give you many, many merry days! Good hufband, let us every one go home, And laugh this fport o'er by a country fire, Sir John and all.

Ford. Let it be fo:-Sir John,

To mafter Brook you' yet fhall hold your word;
For he, to night, fhall lie with mistress Ford.

[Exeunt omnes.

The End of the First Volume.