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another way, and he takes away a Boy in white; and Fenton comes, and fteals away Mrs. Anne Page. A Noife of hunting is made within. All the Fairies run away. Falstaff pulls off his Buck's head, and rifes.

Enter Page, Ford, &c. They lay bold on him.

Page. Nay, do not fly; I think, We've watcht

now;

you

Will none but Herne the hunter ferve your turn?
Mrs. Page. I pray you, come; hold up the jeft no
higher.
Now, good Sir John, how like you Windfor wives?
See you thefe, husbands? do not these fair Yoaks (33)
Become the Foreft better than the Town?

Ford. Now, Sir, who's a cuckold now? mafter Brook, Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldly knave, here are his horns, mafter Brook; and master Brook, he hath enjoy'd nothing of Ford's but his buck-basket, his cudgel, and twenty pounds of mony, which must be paid to mafter Brook; his horfes are arrested for it, mafter Brook.

Mrs. Ford. Sir John, we have had ill luck; we could I will never take you for my love again,

never meet.

but I will always count you my deer.

Fal. I do begin to perceive, that I am made an ass. Ford. Ay, and an ox too: both the proofs are ex

tant.

Fal. And these are not fairies? I was three or four times in the thought, they were not fairies; and yet the guiltiness of my mind, the fudden surprize of my

(33) See

you thefe husbands? Do not these fair Oaks

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Become the Foreft better than the Town?] What Oaks, in the Name of Nonfenfe, do our fagacious Editors make Mrs. Page talk of? The Oaks in the Park? But there was no Intention of transplanting them into the Torun. Me quidem pudet, pigetque. The first Folio reads, as the Poet intended, Yoaks: and Mrs. Page's Meaning is this. She fpeaks to her own, and Mrs. Ford's husband, and asks them, if they fee the Horns in Falstaff's hand; and then alluding to them as the Types of Cuckoldom, puts the Queftion, whether thofe Yoaks are not more proper in the Foreft than in the Town: i. e. than in their Families, as a Reproach to them.

powers,

powers, drove the grofsnefs of the foppery into a receiv'd belief, in delpight of the teeth of all rhime and reason, that they were fairies. See now, how wit may be made a jack-a-lent, when 'tis upon ill imploy

ment.

Eva. Sir John Falstaff, ferve Got, and leave your defires, and fairies will not pinfe you.

Ford. Well faid, fairy Hugh.

Eva. And leave you your jealouzies too, I pray you. Ford. I will never miftruft my wife again, 'till thou art able to woo her in good English.

Fal. Have I laid my brain in the fun and dry'd it, that it wants matter to prevent fo grofs o'er-reaching as this? am I ridden with a Welch goat too? fhall I have a coxcomb of frize? 'tis time, I were choak'd with a piece of toasted cheese.

Eva. Seefe is not good to give putter; your pelly is all putter.

Fal. Seefe and putter? have I liv'd to ftand in the taunt of one, that makes fritters of English? this is enough to be the decay of luft and late-walking, through the Realm.

Mrs. Page. Why, Sir John, do you think, though we would have thruft virtue out of our hearts by the head and fhoulders, and have given our felves without fcruple to hell, that ever the devil could have made you our delight?

Ford. What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax? (34) Mrs. Page. A puft man?

Page. Old, cold, wither'd, and of intolerable en trails?

Ford. And one that is as flanderous as Satan?

Page. And as poor as Job?

(34) What, a hog's pudding ?] Mr. Pope has help'd us to this bog'spudding; all the other Editions, which I have feen, have it rightly bodge-pudding, as it is vulgarly written and pronounc'd; the French call, to fhake, or jumble together, bocher; and they have a Difh call'd, un boche-pot, which is a Mixture of feveral Sorts of Meats cook'd up together. They likewife call it, un pot pourri: (ays Richelet) a Dish, made up of feveral Meats macerated: and fch a Gallimarfy, does Ford mean, is Falstaff.

VOL. I.

X

Ford.

Ford. And as wicked as his wife?

Eva. And given to fornications, and to taverns, and facks, and wines, and metheglins, and to drinkings, and fwearings, and starings, pribbles and prabbles?

Fal. Well, I am your theme; you have the start of me; I am dejected; I am not able to answer the Welch flannel; ignorance it self is a plummet o'er me; use me as you will.

Ford. Marry, Sir, we'll bring you to Windfor to one Mr. Brook, that you have cozen'd of mony, to whom you fhould have been a pander: over and above that you have fuffer'd, I think, to repay that mony will be a biting affliction.

(35) Mrs. Ford. Nay, husband, let That go to make amends:

Forgive that Summ, and fo we'll all be Friends.

Ford. Well, here's my hand; all's forgiven at last.

Page. Yet be cheerful, Knight; thou fhalt eat a posfet to night at my houfe, where I will defire thee to laugh at my wife, that now laughs at thee. Tell her, Mr. Slender hath marry'd her daughter.

Mrs. Page. Doctors doubt that; if Anne Page be my daughter, he is, by this, Doctor Caius's wife. [4fide. Enter Slender.

Slen. What hoe! hoe! father Page?

Page. Son, how now? how now, fon, have patch'd?

you dif

Slen. Difpatch'd? I'll make the best in Gloucestershire know on't; would I were hang'd la, else. Page. Of what, fon?

(35) Mrs. Ford. Nay, husband,] This and the following little Speech I have inferted from the old Quarto's. The Retrenchment, I prefume, was by the Players; and an injudicious One, in my Opinion. Sir John Falftaff is defign'd the Favourite Character in the Play. His Vices are the Subject of all the Pleafantry: and he is fufficiently punish'd, in being disappointed and expos'd. The Expectation of his being perfecuted for the twenty Pounds, gives the Conclufion too tragical a Turn. Befides, it is poetick Juftice that Ford fhould fuftain this Lofs, as a Fine for his unreasonable Jealousy.

Page.

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 post. master's-boy.

Page. Upon my life, then you took the
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 gar

ments?

Slen. I went to her in white and cry'd mum, and she cry'd budget, as Anne and I had appointed, and yet 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, she is now with the Doctor at the Deanery, and there married.

Enter Caius.

Caius. Ver is mistress Page? by gar, I am cozen'd 3 I ha' marry'd one garfoon, a boy; one peafant, 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.

ton.

Ford. This is ftrange! who hath got the right Annè? Page. My heart mifgives me; here comes Mr. Fene

Enter Fenton, and Anne Page.

How now, Mr. Fenton?

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

don.

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Page. Now, mistress, 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 most shamefully,
Where there was no proportion held in love:
The truth is, the and I, long fince contracted,
Are now fo fure, that nothing can diffolve us.
Th' offence is holy, that the hath committed;
And this deceit lofes the name of craft,
Of disobedience, or unduteous title;
Since therein fhe doth evitate and fhun
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 special 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.
Good husband, 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 shall hold your word;
For he, to night, fhall lye with mistress Ford.

[Exe. Omnes.

MEA

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