them once or twice what they had in their basket; I quak'd for fear, left the lunatick knave would have fearch'd it; but fate, ordaining he should be a cuckold, held his hand. Well, on went he for a fearch, and away went I for foul cloaths; but mark the fequel, mafter Brook; I fuffered the pangs of three egregious deaths: first, an intolerable fright, to be detected by a jealous rotten bell-weather; next to be compafs'd like a good bilbo, in the circumference of a peck, hilt to point, heel to head; and then to be ftopt in, like a strong diftillation, with ftinking cloaths that fretted in their own greafe: think of that, a man of my kidney think of that, that am as subject to heat as butter; a man of continual diffolution and thaw; it was a miracle to 'fcape fuffocation. And in the height of this bath, when I was more than half ftew'd in grease, like a Dutch dish, to be thrown into the Thames, and cool'd glowing hot, in that furge, like a horse-shoe; think of that; hiffing hot; think of that, mafter Brook,

Ford. In good fadness, Sir, I am forry that for my fake you fuffer'd all this. My fuit is then defperate; you'll undertake her no more?

Fal. Mafter Brook, I will be thrown into Etna, as I have been into Thames, ere I will leave her thus. Her husband is this morning gone a birding; I have receiv'd from her another embaffie of meeting; 'twixt eight and nine is the hour, master Brook.

Ford. 'Tis paft eight already, Sir.

Fal. Is it? I will then addrefs me to my appointment. Come to me at your convenient leifure, and you shall know how I fpeed; and the conclufion fhall be crown'd with your enjoying her; adieu, you fhall have her, master Brook; mafter Brook, you fhall cuckold Ford. [Exit.

Ford. Hum! ha! is this a vifion? is this a dream? do I fleep? mafter Ford, awake; awake, mafter Ford; there's a hole made in your best coat, mafter Ford; this 'tis to be married! this 'tis to have linnen and buck-baskets! well, I will proclaim my self what I am; I will now

T 4

take

take the leacher; he is at my houfe; he cannot 'fcape me; 'tis impoffible, he fhould; he cannot creep into a half-penny purfe, nor into a pepper-box. But, left the devil that guides him fhould aid him, I will search impoffible places; tho' what I am I cannot avoid, yet to be what I would not, fhall not make me tame: if I have horns to make one mad, let the proverb go with me, I'll be horn-mad. [Exit.

SCENE, Page's house.

Enter Mifrefs Page, Miftrefs Quickly, and William.

I

Mrs. PAGE.

S he at Mr. Ford's already, think'ft thou?

Quic. Sure, he is by this, or will be presently; but truly he is very courageous mad, about his throwing into the water; Mrs. Ford defires you to come fuddenly.

Mrs. Page. I'll be with her by and by; I'll but bring my young man here to fchool. Look, where his mafter comes; 'tis a playing-day, I fee. How now, Sir Hugh, no fchool to day?

Enter Evans.

Eva. No; mafter Slender is let the boys leave to play.

Quic. Bleffing of his heart.

Mrs. Page. Sir Hugh, my husband fays, my fon profits nothing in the world at his book; I pray you, ask him fome queftions in his Accidence.

Eva. Come hither, William

hold up your head,

Mrs.

Mrs. Page. Come on, Sirrah, hold up your head; answer your mafter, be not afraid.

Eva. William, how many numbers is in nouns?
Will. Two.

Quic. Truly, I thought there had been one number more, because they fay, od's nouns.

Eva. Peace your tatlings. What is, Fair, William? Will. Pulcher.

Quic. Poulcats? there are fairer things than poulcats, fure.

Eva. You are a very fimplicity o'man; I pray you, peace. What is, Lapis, William?

Will. A ftone.

Eva. And what is a ftone, William?

Will. A pebble.

Eva. No, it is Lapis: I pray you, remember in prain. Will. Lapis.

your

Eva. That is a good William: what is he, William, that does lend articles?

Will. Articles are borrow'd of the pronoun, and be thus declin'd, fingulariter nominativo, bic, hæc, hoc.

Eva. Nominativo, big, bag, bog; pray you, mark; genitivo, hujus: well, what is your accufative cafe? Will. Accufative, binc.

Eva. I pray you, have your remembrance, child; accufative, bung, bang, bog.

Quic. Hang hog is Latin for bacon, I warrant you. Eva. Leave your prabbles, o'man. What is the fa cative cafe, William?

Will. O, vocativo, O.

Eva. Remember, William, focative is caret.

Quic. And that's a good root.

Eva. O'man, forbear.

Mrs. Page. Peace.

Eva. What is your genitive cafe plural, William?

Will. Genitive cafe?

Eva. Ay.

Will. Genitive, horum, harum, borum.

Quick. 'Vengeance of Ginyes cafe; fie on her; never name her, child, if the be a whore.

Eva. For fhame, o'man.

Quic. You do ill to teach the child fuch words: he teaches him to hick and to hack, which they'll do fast enough of themselves; and to call horum; fie upon you!

Eva. O'man, art thou lunacies? haft thou no understandings for thy cafes, and the numbers of the genders? thou art as foolish christian creatures, as I would defire.

Mrs. Page. Pr'ythee, hold thy peace.

Eva. Shew me now, William, fome declenfions of your pronouns."

Will. Forfooth, I have forgot.

Eva. It is qui, quæ, quod; if you forget your quies, your ques, and your quods, you must be preeches: go your ways and play, go.

Mrs. Page. He is a better scholar, than I thought he was.

Eva. He is a good fprag memory. Farewel, Mrs. Page.

Mrs. Page. Adieu, good Sir Hugh. Get you home, boy. Come, we stay too long.

Fal.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Ford's house.

Enter Falftaff and Miftrefs Ford.

ISTRESS Ford, your forrow hath eaten up my fufferance; I fee you are obfequious in your love, and I profefs requital to a hair's breadth; not only, miftrefs Ford, in the fimple office of love, but in all the accouftrement, complement, and ceremony of it. But are you sure of your husband now?

Mrs. Ford. He's a birding, fweet Sir John.

Mrs. Page. [within.] What hoa, goffip Ford! what

hoa!

Mrs.

Mrs. Ford. Step into th' chamber, Sir John.

Enter Mistress Page.

[Exit Falstaff.

Mrs. Page. How now, sweet heart, who's at home

befides your felf?

Mrs. Ford. Why none but mine own people.

Mrs. Page. Indeed?

Mrs. Ford. No, certainly

Speak louder. [Afide.

Mrs. Page. Truly, I am fo glad you have no body

here.

Mrs. Ford. Why?

Mrs. Page. Why, woman, your husband is in his old lunes again; he fo takes on yonder with my husband, fo rails against all married mankind, fo curfes all Eve's daughters, of what complexion foever, and so buffets himself on the fore-head, crying, peer-out, peerout! that any madness I ever yet beheld feem'd but tameness, civility, and patience, to this distemper he is in now; 1 am glad, the fat Knight is not here.

Mrs. Ford. Why, does he talk of him?

Mrs. Page. Of none but him; and fwears, he was carry'd out, the last time he fearch'd for him, in a basket; protefts to my husband, he is now here; and hath drawn him and the reft of their company from their sport, to make another experiment of his fufpicion; but I am glad, the Knight is not here; now he fhall fee his own foolery.

Mrs, Ford. How near is he, mistress Page?

Mrs. Page. Hard by, at ftreet's end, he will be here

anon.

Mrs. Ford. I am undone, the Knight is here.

Mrs. Page. Why, then thou art utterly fham'd, and he's but a dead man. What a woman are you? away with him, away with him; better, fhame than murther.

Mrs. Ford. Which way fhould he go? how fhould I bestow him? fhall I put him into the basket again?

Enter