Mrs. Page. Why, look, where he comes, and my good man too; he's as far from jealoufie, as I am from giving him caufe; and that, I hope, is an unmeafureable diftance.

Mrs. Ford. You are the happier woman.

Mrs. Page. Let's confult together against this greafie Knight. Come hither. [They retire.

Enter Ford with Pistol, Page with Nym.

Ford. Well, I hope, it be not fo.

Pift. Hope is a curtal-dog in fome affairs.

Sir John affects thy wife. ・・

Ford. Why, Sir, my wife is not young.

Pift. He wooes both high and low, both rich and

poor,

Both young

and old, one with another, Ford; He loves thy gally-mawfry, Ford, perpend. Ford. Love my wife?

Pift. With liver burning hot: prevent, or go thou, like Sir Acteon, he, with Ring-wood at thy heels-0, odious is the name.

Ford. What name, Sir?

Pift. The horn, I fay: farewel.

Take heed, have open eye; for thieves do foot by

night.

Take heed ere fummer comes, or cuckoo-birds af

fright.

Away, Sir corporal Nym.

Believe it, Page, he speaks fenfe.

[Exit Pistol,

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 borne 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 short and the long. My name is Corporal Nym; I fpeak, 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 Cataian, tho' the prieft o' th' town commended him for a true man. Ford. 'Twas a good fenfible fellow: well.

5 I bave a fword, and it fhall bite upon my neceffity. He loves your wife; &c.] This abfurd paffage may be pointed into fenfe. I have a fword, and it fall bite upon my neceffity, he loves your wife, &c. Having faid his favord should bite, he ftops fhort, as was fitting: For he meant that it should bite upon the high-way. And then turns to the fubject of his conference, and fwears, by his neceffity, that Falstaff loved his wife.

5 I will not believe fuch a Cataian,] Mr. Theobald has here a pleasant note, as ufual. This is a piece of fatire that did not want its force at the time of this play's appearing; tho' the biflory 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 ftone, as he thought, rich in gold-ore: that it proved not fo, and that therefore Cataians and Frobishers became by-words for vain boafters. The 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 first adventurers that travelled thither; fuch as M. Paulo, and our Mandeville, who told fuch incredible wonders of this new dif covered empire, (in which they have not been outdone even by the Jefuits themfelves, who followed them) that a notorious liar was ufually called a Cataian.

SCENE

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, mistress Page?

Mrs. Page. Have with you. You'll come to dinner, George? Look, who comes yonder; fhe shall be our messenger to this paultry Knight.

Enter Miftrefs Quickly.

Mrs. Ford. Truft me, I thought on her, she'll fit it. Mrs. Page. You are come to see my daughter Anne? Quick. Ay, forfooth; and, I pray, how does good mistress Anne?

Mrs. Page. Go in with us, and fee; we have 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; very rogues, now they be out of fervice.

Ford. Were they his men?

Page. Marry, were they.

T 3

Ford.

Ford. I like it never the better for that. Does he lye at the Garter?

Page. Ay, marry, does he. If he fhould intend his voyage towards my wife, I would turn her loose to him; and what he gets more of her than fharp words, let it lye on my head.

Ford. I do not mifdoubt my wife, but I would be loth to turn them together; a man may be too con. fident; I would have nothing lye on my head; I cannot be thus fatisfy'd.

Page. Look, where my ranting Hoft of the Garter comes; there is either liquor in his pate, or mony in his purfe, when he looks fo merrily. How now,

mine Hoft?

Hoft. How now, bully Rock? thou'rt a gentleman; cavalerio-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-juftice; 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?

Shal. Will you go with us to behold it? my merry Hoft 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 jefter. Hark, I will tell you what our fport fhall be.

Hoft. Haft thou no fuit against my Knight, my gueft-cavalier?

Ford.

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 jeft.

Hoft. My hand, bully: thou fhalt have egrefs and regrefs; faid I well? and thy name fhall be Brook. It is a merry Knight. Will you go on, Heris? Shal. Have with you, mine hoft.

Page. I have heard, the Frenchman hath good skill in his rapier.

Shal. Tut, Sir, I could have told you more; in "these times you ftand on diftance, your paffes, ftoc"cado's, and I know not what: 'tis the heart, mafter Page; 'tis here, 'tis here. I have seen the time, with "my long fword, I would have made you four tall "fellows skip like rats.

66

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 on his wife's frailty, yet I cannot put off my opinion fo eafily. She was in his company at Page's houfe; and what they made there, I know not. Well, I will look further into't; and I have a difguife to

6 Will you go AN HEIRS?] This nonfenfe is spoken to Shallow. We fhould read,

Will you go ON, HERIS?

i.e. Will you go on, Maller. Heris, an old Scotch word for master. 7 ftand fo firmly on his wife's frailty,] Thus all the Copies. But Mr. Theobald has no conception 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 rotten, and he believes it not, but will go on, may I not fay, when I fee him upon it, that he ftands firmly on a rotten plank? Yet he has changed frailty for fealty, and the Oxford Editor has followed him. But they took the phrase, to fland firmly on, to fignify te infift upon; whereas it fignifies to rest upon, which the character of a fecure fool, given to him, fhews. So that the common reading has an elegance that would be loft in the alteration. T 4

VOL. I.

found