Lust is but vloody fire, You moon-shine revellers, and shades of night, Pist. Elves, list your names; silence, you airy toys. Cricket, to Windsor chimneys shalt thou leap: Where fires thou find'st unråk'd, and hearths unswept, There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry:2 I'll wink and couch: No man their works must eye. [Lies down upon his face. Eva. Where's Pede ?-Go you, and where you find a maid, That, ere she sleep, has thrice her prayers said, But those as sleep, and think not on their sins, Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides, and shins. Quick. About, about; Search Windsor castle, elves, within and out: In emerald tufts, flowers purple, blue, and white; in order set: And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be, thy birth. Quick. With trial-fire touch me his finger end: If he be chaste, the flame will back descend, And turn him to no pain; but if he start, It is the flesh of a corrupted heart. Pist. A trial, come. Era. Come, will this wood take fire? [They burn him with their tapers. Fal. Oh, oh, oh! Quick. Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire! About him, fairies; sing a scornful rhyme: And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time. Eea. It is right; indeed he is full of lecheries and miquity. Kindled with unchaste desire, As thoughts do blow them, higher and higher.' Pinch him for his villany; Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about During this song, the fairies pinch Falstaff. Doctor Caius comes one way, and steals away a fairy in green; Slender another way, and takes off a fairy in white; and Fenton comes, and steals away Mrs. Anne Page. A noise of hunting is made within. All the fairies run away. Falstaff pulls off his buck's head, and rises. Enter Page, Ford, Mrs. Page, and Mrs. Ford. They lay hold on him. Page. Nay, do not fly: I think, we have watch'd you now; Will none but Herne the hunter serve your turn? Mrs. Page. pray you, come; hold up the jest no higher; Now, good sir John, how like you Windsor wives? See you these, husband? do not these fair yokes4 Become the forest better than the town? Ford. Now, sir, who's a cuckold now?-Master Brook, Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldly knave; here are his horns, master Brook: And, master Brook, he hath enjoyed nothing of Ford's but his buckbasket, his cudgel, and twenty pounds of money; which must be paid to master Brook; his horses are arrested for it, master Brook. Mrs. Ford. Sir John, we have had ill luck; we could never meet. I will never take you for my love again, 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 extant. 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 sudden surprise of my powers, drove the grossness of the foppery into a received belief, in despite of the teeth of all rhyme and reason, that they were fairies. See now, how wit may be made a Jack-a-lent, when 'tis upon ill employment! Era. Sir John Falstaff, serve Got, and leave your desires, and fairies will not pinse you, Ford. Well said, fairy Hugh. Eva. And leave you your jealousies too, I pray the head and shoulders, and have given ourselves cozened; I ha' married un garçon, a boy; un paiwithout scruple to hell, that ever the devil could san, by gar, a boy; it is not Anne Page: by gar, I have made you our delight? am cozened. Ford. What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax? Page. Old, cold, withered, and of intolerable entrails. Mrs. Page. Why, did you take her in green? Caius. Ay, be gar, and 'tis a boy be gar, I'll raise all Windsor. [Exit Caius, Ford. This is strange: Who hath got the right Ford. And one that is as slanderous as Satan? Anne ? Ford. And as wicked as his wife? Eva. And given to fornications, and to taverns, and sack, and wine, and metheglins, and to drinkings, and swearings, 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 itself is a plummet o'er me: use me as you will. Ford. Marry, sir, we'll bring you to Windsor, to one master Brook, that you have cozened of money, to whom you should have been a pander: over and above that you have suffered, I think, to repay that money will be a biting affliction. Mrs. Ford. Nay, husband, let that go to make amends: Forgive that sum, and so we'll all be friends. Ford. Well, here's my hand; all's forgiven at last. Page. My heart misgives me: Here comes master Fenton. Enter Fenton and Anne Page. How now, master Fenton? Anne. Pardon, good father! good my mother pardon! Page. Now, mistress? how chance you went not with master Slender? Mrs. Page. Why went you not with master doctor, maid? Fent. You do amaze1 her: Hear the truth of it. You would have married her most shamefully, Where there was no proportion held in love. The truth is, she and I, long since contracted, Are now so sure that nothing can dissolve us. The offence is holy, that she hath committed: And this deceit loses the name of craft, Of disobedience, or unduteous title; Page. Yet be cheerful, knight: thou shalt eat a Since therein she doth evitates and shun posset to-night at my house; where I will desire A thousand irreligious cursed hours, thee to laugh at my wife, that now laughs at thee: Which forced marriage would have brought upon Tell her, master Slender hath married her daughter. Mrs. Page. Doctors doubt that: If Anne Page Ford. Stand not amaz'd: here is no remedy :be my daughter, she is, by this, doctor Caius' wife. In love, the heavens themselves do guide the state; [Aside. Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate. Fal. I am glad, though you have ta'en a special stand to strike at me, that your arrow hath glanced. Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven give thee joy! What cannot be eschew'd, must be embrac'd. Fal. When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer are chas'd. Enter Slender. Slen. Whoo, ho! ho! father Page! Page. Son! how now? how now, son? have you despatched? Slen. Despatched-I'll make the best in Glocestershire know on't; would I were hanged, la, else. Page. Of what, son? her. Eva. I will dance and eat plumbs at your wedding. Slen. I came yonder at Eton to marry mistress Mrs. Page. Well, I will muse no further:- 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 married 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 cry'd mum, and she cry'd budget, as Anne and I had appointed; and yet it was not Anne, but a post-master's boy. Eva. Jeshu! Master Slender, cannot you see but marry poys? Sir John and all. Let it be so:-Sir John, To master Brook you yet shall hold your word; For he, to-night, shall lie with Mrs. Ford. [Exeunt. Of this play there is a tradition preserved by Mr. Rowe, that it was written at the command of Queen Elizabeth, who was so delighted with the character of Falstaff, that she wished it to be diffused through more plays; but suspecting that it might pall by continued uniformity, directed the poet to diversify his manner, by showing him in Page. O, Iam vexed at heart: What shall I do? Mrs. Page. Good George, be not angry: I knew of your purpose; turned my daughter into green; and, indeed, she is now with the doctor at love. No task is harder than that of writing to the the deanery, and there married. Enter Caius. Caius. Vere is mistress Page? By gar, I am (1) Confound her by your questions. (2) Avoid. ideas of another. Shakspeare knew what the queen, if the story be true, seems not to have known, that by any real passion of tenderness, the selfish craft, the careless jollity, and the lazy luxury of Falstaff, must have suffered so much abatement, that little of his former cast would have remained. Falstaff could not love, but by ceasing to be Falstaff. He all his former power of entertainment. could only counterfeit love, and his professions of forming ridiculous characters can confer praise could be prompted, not by the hope of pleasure, only on him who originally discovered it, for it rebut of money. Thus the poet approached as near quires not much of either wit or judgment; its as he could to the work enjoined him; yet having success must be derived almost wholly from the perhaps in the former plays completed his own player, but its power in a skilful mouth, even he idea, seems not to have been able to give Falstaff that despises it, is unable to resist. The conduct of this drama is deficient; the acThis comedy is remarkable for the variety and tion begins and ends often, before the conclusion, number of the personages, who exhibit more cha- and the different parts might change places withracters appropriated and discriminated, than per-out inconvenience; but its general power, that haps can be found in any other play. power by which all works of genius shall finally Whether Shakspeare was the first that produced be tried, is such, that perhaps it never yet had upon the English stage the effect of language dis-reader or spectator who did not think it too soon torted and depraved by provincial or foreign pro-at the end. nunciation, I cannot certainly decide. This model JOHNSON Val. So please my lord, I might not be admitted, Duke. O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame,| Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else Vio. What country, friends, is this? Illyria, lady. My brother he is in Elysium. Perchance, he is not drown'd:-What think you, sailors? tice) To a strong mast, that lived upon the sea; Vio. Not three hours' travel from this very place. As in his name. Vio, What is his name? Orsino. Vio. Orsino! I have heard my father name him: He was a bachelor then. (3) Heated. Cap. TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL. Or was so very late; for but a month Vio. Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count her In the protection of his son, her brother, Vio. Cap. That were hard to compass; Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain; I will believe, thou hast a mind that suits Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be: Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take the death of her brother thus? I am sure, care's an enemy to life. Mar. By troth, sir Toby, you must come in earlier o' nights; your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours. Sir To. Why, let her except before excepted. Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits of order. Sir To. Confine? I'll confine myself no finer than I am: these clothes are good enough to drink in, and so be these boots too; an they be not, let them hang themselves in their own straps. Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo you: I heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a foolish knight, that you brought in one night here, to be her wooer. Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Aguc-check? Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria. Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats year. a Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats; he's a very fool, and a prodigal. Sir To viol-de-gamb that you'll say so! he plays o' the and speaks three or four languages 73 Mar. He hath, indeed,-almost natural: for, besides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; and, but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the prudent, he would quickly have the gift of a grave. substractors, that say so of him. Who are they? Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels, and Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company. Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece; I'll drink to her, as long as there is a passage in my throat, and drink in Illyria: he's a coward and a coystril, that will not drink to my niece, till his brains turn o' the toe, like a parish-top. What, wench? Castiliano vulgo; for here comes sir Andrew Ague-face. Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek. Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, sir Toby Belch? Sir To. Sweet sir Andrew? Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew. Mar. And you too, sir. Sir To. Accost, sir Andrew, accost. Sir And. What's that? Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid. Sir And. Good mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance. Mar. My name is Mary, sir. Sir And. Good mistress Mary Accost,Sir To. You mistake, knight: accost, is, front her, board her, woo her, assail her. Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost? Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen. Sir To. An thou let part so, sir Andrew, 'would thou might'st never draw sword again. might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you Sir And. An you part so, mistress, I would I think you have fools in hand? Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand. Sir And. Marry, but you shall have; and here's my hand. your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink. Mar. Now, sir, thought is free; I pray you, bring Sir And. Wherefore, sweetheart? what's your metaphor? Mar. It's dry, sir. Sir And. Why, I think so; I am not such an ass, but I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest? Mar. A dry jest, sir. Sir And. Are you full of them? Mar. Ay, sir; I have them at my fingers' ends: marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. when did I see thee so put down? Sir To. O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary [Exit Maria. Sir And. Never in your life, I think; unless you see canary put me down: methinks, sometimes I man has: but I am a great cater of beef, and, 1 have no more wit than a Christian, or an ordinary believe, that does harm to my wit. Sir To. No question. ride home to-morrow, sir Toby. Sir And. An I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'R Sir To. Pourquoy, my dear knight? word for word without book, and hath all the good that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting (1) Approve. (2) Stout. (3) Keystril, a bastard hawk. |