The Merry Wives of Windsor

Windsor. Before Page’s house.

Enter Justice Shallow, Slender, and Sir Hugh Evans.

Justice Shallow

Hotly. Sir Hugh, persuade me not; I will make a Star Chamber matter of it; if he were twenty Sir John Falstaffs, he shall not abuse Robert Shallow, esquire.

Slender

Nodding. In the county of Gloucester, Justice of Peace, and “coram.”

Justice Shallow

Ay, cousin Slender, and “cust-alorum.”

Slender

Ay, and “rato-lorum” too; and a gentleman born, Master Parson, who writes himself “armigero” in any bill, warrant, quittance, or obligation⁠—“armigero.”

Justice Shallow

Ay, that I do; and have done any time these three hundred years.

Slender

All his successors, gone before him, hath done’t; and all his ancestors, that come after him, may: they may give the dozen white luces in their coat.

Justice Shallow

Proudly. It is an old coat.

Sir Hugh Evans

The dozen white louses do become an old coat well; it agrees well, passant; it is a familiar beast to man, and signifies love.

Justice Shallow

Coldly. The luce is the fresh fish; the salt fish is an old coat.

Slender

I may quarter, coz?

Justice Shallow

You may, by marrying.

Sir Hugh Evans

It is marring indeed, if he quarter it.

Justice Shallow

Not a whit.

Sir Hugh Evans

Yes, py’r lady! If he has a quarter of your coat, there is but three skirts for yourself, in my simple conjectures; but that is all one.

Pistol

Young ravens must have food.

Falstaff

Which of you know Ford of this town?

Pistol

I ken the wight; he is of substance good.

Falstaff

My honest lads, I will tell you what I am about.

Pistol

Two yards, and more.

Falstaff

No quips now, Pistol. Indeed, I am in the waist two yards about; but I am now about no waste; I am about thrift. Briefly, I do mean to make love to Ford’s wife; I spy entertainment in her; she discourses, she carves, she gives the leer of invitation; I can construe the action of her familiar style; and the hardest voice of her behaviour, to be Englished rightly, is “I am Sir John Falstaff’s.”

Pistol

He hath studied her will, and translated her will out of honesty into English.

Nym

The anchor is deep; will that humour pass?

Falstaff

Now, the report goes she has all the rule of her husband’s purse; he hath a legion of angels.

Pistol

As many devils entertain; and “To her, boy,” say I.

Nym

The humour rises; it is good; humour me the angels.

Falstaff

I have writ me here a letter to her; and here another to Page’s wife, who even now gave me good eyes too, examined my parts with most judicious oeillades; sometimes the beam of her view gilded my foot, sometimes my portly belly.

Before Page’s house.

Enter Mistress Page, with a letter.

Mistress Page

What! have I ’scaped love-letters in the holiday-time of my beauty, and am I now a subject for them? Let me see. She reads.

“Ask me no reason why I love you; for though Love use Reason for his precisian, he admits him not for his counsellor. You are not young, no more am I; go to, then, there’s sympathy: you are merry, so am I; ha! ha! then there’s more sympathy; you love sack, and so do I; would you desire better sympathy? Let it suffice thee, Mistress Page, at the least, if the love of soldier can suffice, that I love thee. I will not say, pity me: ’tis not a soldier-like phrase; but I say, Love me.

By me, Thine own true knight, By day or night, Or any kind of light, With all his might For thee to fight,

John Falstaff.”

What a Herod of Jewry is this! O wicked, wicked world! One that is well-nigh worn to pieces with age to show himself a young gallant. What an unweighed behaviour hath this Flemish drunkard picked, with the devil’s name! out of my conversation, that he dares in this manner assay me? Why, he hath not been thrice in my company! What should I say to him? I was then frugal of my mirth:⁠—Heaven forgive me! Why, I’ll exhibit a bill in the parliament for the putting down of men.

A room in Ford’s house, hung with arras; stairs leading to a gallery; a large open hearth; three doors, one with windows right and left opening into the street.

Enter Mistress Ford and Mistress Page.

Mistress Ford

Calls. What, John! what, Robert!

Mistress Page

Quickly, quickly:⁠—Is the buck-basket⁠—

Mistress Ford

I warrant. What, Robin, I say!

Enter Servants with a basket.

Mistress Page

Impatient. Come, come, come.

Mistress Ford

Here, set it down. They do so.

Mistress Page

Give your men the charge; we must be brief.

Mistress Ford

Marry, as I told you before, John and Robert, be ready here hard by in the brew-house; and when I suddenly call you, come forth, and, without any pause or staggering, take this basket on your shoulders: that done, trudge with it in all haste, and carry it among the whitsters in Datchet-Mead, and there empty it in the muddy ditch close by the Thames side.

Mistress Page

You will do it?

Mistress Ford

I have told them over and over; they lack no direction. Be gone, and come when you are called.

Exeunt Servants.

Mistress Page

Here comes little Robin.

Enter Robin.

Mistress Ford

How now, my eyas-musket! what news with you?

Robin

My Master Sir John is come in at your backdoor, Mistress Ford, and requests your company.

Mistress Page

You little Jack-a-Lent, have you been true to us?

Robin

A room in Page’s house.

Enter Fenton and Anne Page.

Fenton

I see I cannot get thy father’s love; Therefore no more turn me to him, sweet Nan.

Anne Page

Alas! how then?

Fenton

Why, thou must be thyself. He doth object, I am too great of birth; And that my state being gall’d with my expense, I seek to heal it only by his wealth. Besides these, other bars he lays before me, My riots past, my wild societies; And tells me ’tis a thing impossible I should love thee but as a property.

Anne Page

May be he tells you true.

Fenton

No, heaven so speed me in my time to come! Albeit I will confess thy father’s wealth Was the first motive that I wooed thee, Anne: Yet, wooing thee, I found thee of more value Than stamps in gold, or sums in sealèd bags; And ’tis the very riches of thyself That now I aim at.

Anne Page

Gentle Master Fenton, Yet seek my father’s love; still seek it, sir. If opportunity and humblest suit Cannot attain it, why then⁠—hark you hither.

They converse apart.

Enter Justice Shallow, Slender, and Mistress Quickly.

Justice Shallow

Break their talk, Mistress Quickly: my kinsman shall speak for himself. She draws near the lovers.

Slender

Pale. I’ll make a shaft or a bolt on’t. ’Slid, ’tis but venturing.

Justice Shallow

Be not dismayed.

Slender

No, she shall not dismay me. I care not for that, but that I am afeard.

Mistress Quickly

To Anne Page. Hark ye; Master Slender would speak a word with you.