« PředchozíPokračovat »
de Earl, de Knight, de Lords, de Gentlemen, my patients.
Hojt. For the which I will be thy adversary toward
Caius. By gar, 'tis good; vell said.
and friend Simple by your name, which way have you look'd for master Caius, that calls himself Doctor of Physick ?
Simp. Marry, Sir, the Pitty-wary, the Park-ward, every way, old Windsor way, and every way but the town way.
Eva. I most fehemently desire you, you will also look that way.
Simp. I will, Sir.
Eva. 'Pless my soul, how full of cholars I am, and trempling of mind! I shall be glad, if he have deceiv'd me; how melanchollies I am! I will knog his urinals about his knave's coftard, when I have good opportunities for the orke: 'Pless
[Sings, being afraid By Swallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigalls ;
There will we make our peds of roses ;
And a thousand vagrant posies 3. By shallow 'Mercy on me! I have a great dispofitions to cry. Melodious birds fing madrigalls, When as I sat in Pabilon ;--and a thousand vagrant pofies. -By shallow, &c.
Simp. Yonder he is coming, this way, Sir Hugh.
Eva. He's welcome. By shallow rivers, to whose fallsHeav'n profper the right! what weapons is he?
Simp. 3. By Mallow rivers, &c.] poem, and the anfwer to it, This is part of a beautiful little the reader will not be displeased poem of the author's, which to find here.
The Pasionate Shepherd to his Love.
Simp. No weapons, Sir; there comes my master Mr. Shallow, and another gentleman from Frogmore, over the stile, this way.
Eva. Pray you; give me thy gown, or elfe-keep it in your arms.
SCENE 11. Enter Page, Shallow, and Slender: Shal, How now, master Parson? good morrow, good Sir Hugh. Keep a gamester from the dice, and a good student from his book, and it is wonderful:
The Nymph’s Reply to the Shepherd.
To live with thee, and be thy Love. These two Poems, which Dr. Other to Raleigh. These Poems Warburton gives to Shakespeare, are read in different Copics with are, by Writers nearer that time, great Variations, disposed of, one to Marlow, the
Slen. Ah, sweet Anne Page !
Itudy them both, Mr. Parson?
Page. And youthful ftill, in your doublet and hose, this raw-rheumatick day?
Eva. There is reasons and causes for it.
Page. We are come to you, to do a good office, Mr. Parfon.
Eva. Ferry well : what is it?
Page. Yonder is a most reverend gentleman, who belike, having receiv'd wrong by some person, is at most odds with his own gravity and patience, that ever you saw.
Shal. I have liv'd fourscore years, and upward ; I never heard a man of his place, gravity and learning, fo wide of his own respect.
Eva. What is he?
Page. I think you know him ; Mr. Doctor Caius, the renowned French physician.
Eva. Gol's will, and his passion of my heart! I had as lief you would tell nie of a mess of porridge.
Eva. He has no more knowledge in Hibocrates and Galen ; and he's a knave besides ; a cowardly knave as you would desire to be acquainted withal.
Page. I warrant you, he's the man should fight with him.
Slen. O, sweet Anne Page !
SCE N E PII.
Enter Hoft, Caius, and Rugby.
Shal. It appears so, by his weapons.—Keep them asunder-here comes Doctor Caius. Page. Nay, good Mr. Parson, keep in your weapon.
Shal: So do you, good Mr. Doctor.
Hoft. Disarm them, and let them question ; let them keep their limbs whole, and hack our English. · Caius. I pray you, let-a me speak a word with your ear : wherefore vil you not meet-a me?
Eva. Pray you, use your patience. In good time.
Caius. By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog, John ape.
Eva. Pray you, let us not be laughing-stocks to other men's humours. I desire you in friendship, and will one way or other make you amends; I will knog your urinal about your knave's cogs-comb, for missing your meetings and appointments.
Caius. Diable ! Jack Rugby, mine Hoft de Jarterre, have I not stay for him, to kill him ? have I not, at de place I did appoint ?
Eva. As I am a christian's soul, now look you, this is the place appointed ; I'll be judgment by mine Host of the Garter.
Hoft. Peace, I say, Gallia and Gaul, French and Welch, foul-curer and body-curer.
Caius. Ay, dat is very good, excellent.
Hojt. Peace, I fay; hear mine Host of the Garter: Am I politick ? am I subtle? am I a Machiavel ? shall I lose my Doctor ? no; he gives me the porions and the motions. Shall I lose my Parson? my Priest? my Sir Hugh? no; he gives me the proverbs and the no verbs. --Give me thy hand, terrestial; fo.--Give me thy hand, celestial ; fo. Boys of art, I have deceiv’d you both : I have directed you to wrong places : your hearts are mighty, your skins are whole, and ler burn'd fack be the issue. Come, lay your swords to pawn. Follow me, lad of
peace. Follow, follow, follow.
Shal. Trust me, a mad Hoft.-Follow, gentlemen, follow. Slen. O, sweet Anne Page! [Exeurt Shal. Slen, Page and Host.
K k 3