giving him cause; and that, I hope, is an unmeasurable distance.

Mrs. Ford. You are the happier woman,

Mrs. Page. Let's consult together against this greasy knight: Come hither. [they retire.

Enter FORD, PISTOL, PAGE, and NYм.

Ford. Well, I hope it be not so.

Pist. Hope is a curtail dog in some affairs:

Sir John affects thy wife.

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

Pist. He wooes both high and low, both rich and poor, Both young and old, one with another, Ford;

He loves thy gally-maw fry; Ford, perpend.
Ford. Love my wife?

Pist. With liver burning hot: Prevent, or go thou, Like Sir Acteon he, with Ring-wood at thy heels :O, odious is the name !

Ford. What name, sir?

Pist. The horn, I say: Farewell.

Take heed; have open eye; for thieves do foot by night: Take heed; ere summer comes, or cuckoo-birds do sing.Away, sir corporal Nym.

Believe it, Page; he speaks sense.

[Exit PISTOL.

Ford. I will be patient; I will find out this.

He

Nym. And this is true; [to Page.] I like not the hu mour of lying. He hath wrong'd me in some humours: I should have borne the humour'd letter to her; but I have a sword, and it shall bite upon my necessity. loves your wife; there's the short and the long. name is corporal Nym; I speak, and I avouch. 'Tis true;-my name is Nym, and Falstaff loves your wife.Adieu! I love not the humour of bread and cheese; and there's the humour of it.

C4

Adieu.

My

[Exit NYM.

Page.

Page. The humour of it, quoth'a! here's a fellow frights humour out of his wits.

Ford. I will seek out Falstaff.

Page. I never heard such a drawling, affecting rogue. Ford. If I do find it, well.

Page. I will not believe such a Cataian, though the priest o'the town commended him for a true man. Ford. 'Twas a good sensible fellow: Well.

Page. How now, Meg?

Mrs. Page. Whither go you, George?-Hark you. Mrs. Ford. How now, sweet Frank? why art thou me lancholy?

Ford. I melancholy! I am not melancholy.-Get you home, go.

Mrs. Ford. 'Faith, thou hast some 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; she shall be our messenger to this paltry knight. [Aside to Mrs. FORD.

Enter Mrs. QUICKLY.

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

Mrs. Page. Go in with us, and see; we have an hour's talk with you.

[Exeunt Mrs. PAGE, Mrs. FORD, and Mrs. QUICKLY. Page. How now, master Ford?

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, slaves! I do not think the knight would offer it: but these that accuse him in his intent

towards

towards our wives, are a yoke of his discarded men; very

rogues, now they be out of service.

Ford. Were they his men?

Page. Marry, were they.

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

Page. Ay, marry, does he. If he should intend this voyage towards my wife, I would turn her lose to him; and what he gets more of her than sharp words, let it lie on my head.

Ford. I do not misdoubt my wife; but I would be loth to turn them together: A man may be too confident; I would have nothing lie on my head: I cannot be thus satisfied.

Page. Look, where my ranting host of the Garter comes: there is either liquor in his pate, or money in his purse, when he looks so merrily.-How now, mine host?

Enter HOST, and SHALLOW.

Host. How now, bully-rook? thou'rt a gentleman: cavalero-justice, I say.

Shal. I follow, mine host, I follow.-Good even, and twenty, good master Page! Master Page, will you go with us? we have sport in hand.

Host. Tell him, cavalero-justice; tell him bully-rook, Shal. Sir, there is a fray to be fought, between sir Hugh the Welch priest, and Caius the French doctor. Ford. Good mine host o'the Garter, a word with you. Host. What say'st thou, bully-rook? [They go aside. Shal. Will you [to Page] go with us to behold it? My merry host hath had the measuring of their weapons; and, I think, he hath appointed them contrary places: for, believe me, I hear the parson is no jester. Hark, I will tell you what our sport shall be.

Host.