The Merry Wives of Windsor
| ACT III SCENE I | A field near Frogmore. | |
| [Enter SIR HUGH EVANS and SIMPLE] | ||
| SIR HUGH EVANS | I pray you now, good master Slender’s serving-man, | |
| and friend Simple by your name, which way have you | ||
| looked for Master Caius, that calls himself doctor of physic? | ||
| SIMPLE | Marry, sir, the pittie-ward, the park-ward, every | |
| way; old Windsor way, and every way but the town | 5 | |
| way. | ||
| SIR HUGH EVANS | I most fehemently desire you you will also look that | |
| way. | ||
| SIMPLE | I will, sir. | |
| [Exit] | ||
| SIR HUGH EVANS | ‘Pless my soul, how full of chollors I am, and | 10 |
| trempling of mind! I shall be glad if he have | ||
| deceived me. How melancholies I am! I will knog | ||
| his urinals about his knave’s costard when I have | ||
| good opportunities for the ork. ‘Pless my soul! | ||
| [Sings] | ||
| To shallow rivers, to whose falls | 15 | |
| Melodious birds sings madrigals; | ||
| There will we make our peds of roses, | ||
| And a thousand fragrant posies. | ||
| To shallow– | ||
| Mercy on me! I have a great dispositions to cry. | 20 | |
| [Sings] | ||
| Melodious birds sing madrigals– | ||
| When as I sat in Pabylon– | ||
| And a thousand vagram posies. | ||
| To shallow &c. | ||
| [Re-enter SIMPLE] | ||
| SIMPLE | Yonder he is coming, this way, Sir Hugh. | 25 |
| SIR HUGH EVANS | He’s welcome. | |
| [Sings] | ||
| To shallow rivers, to whose falls- | ||
| Heaven prosper the right! What weapons is he? | ||
| SIMPLE | No weapons, sir. There comes my master, Master | |
| Shallow, and another gentleman, from Frogmore, over | 30 | |
| the stile, this way. | ||
| SIR HUGH EVANS | Pray you, give me my gown; or else keep it in your arms. | |
| [Enter PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER] | ||
| SHALLOW | 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. | 35 | |
| SLENDER | [Aside] Ah, sweet Anne Page! | |
| PAGE | ‘Save you, good Sir Hugh! | |
| SIR HUGH EVANS | ‘Pless you from his mercy sake, all of you! | |
| SHALLOW | What, the sword and the word! do you study them | |
| both, master parson? | 40 | |
| PAGE | And youthful still! in your doublet and hose this | |
| raw rheumatic day! | ||
| SIR HUGH EVANS | There is reasons and causes for it. | |
| PAGE | We are come to you to do a good office, master parson. | |
| SIR HUGH EVANS | Fery well: what is it? | 45 |
| PAGE | Yonder is a most reverend gentleman, who, belike | |
| having received wrong by some person, is at most | ||
| odds with his own gravity and patience that ever you | ||
| saw. | ||
| SHALLOW | I have lived fourscore years and upward; I never | 50 |
| heard a man of his place, gravity and learning, so | ||
| wide of his own respect. | ||
| SIR HUGH EVANS | What is he? | |
| PAGE | I think you know him; Master Doctor Caius, the | |
| renowned French physician. | 55 | |
| SIR HUGH EVANS | Got’s will, and his passion of my heart! I had as | |
| lief you would tell me of a mess of porridge. | ||
| PAGE | Why? | |
| SIR HUGH EVANS | He has no more knowledge in Hibocrates and Galen, | |
| –and he is a knave besides; a cowardly knave as you | 60 | |
| would desires to be acquainted withal. | ||
| PAGE | I warrant you, he’s the man should fight with him. | |
| SHALLOW | [Aside] O sweet Anne Page! | |
| SHALLOW | It appears so by his weapons. Keep them asunder: | |
| here comes Doctor Caius. | 65 | |
| [Enter Host, DOCTOR CAIUS, and RUGBY] | ||
| PAGE | Nay, good master parson, keep in your weapon. | |
| SHALLOW | So do you, good master doctor. | |
| Host | Disarm them, and let them question: let them keep | |
| their limbs whole and hack our English. | ||
| DOCTOR CAIUS | I pray you, let-a me speak a word with your ear. | 70 |
| Vherefore vill you not meet-a me? | ||
| SIR HUGH EVANS | [Aside to DOCTOR CAIUS] Pray you, use your patience: | |
| in good time. | ||
| DOCTOR CAIUS | By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog, John ape. | |
| SIR HUGH EVANS | [Aside to DOCTOR CAIUS] Pray you let us not be | 75 |
| laughing-stocks to other men’s humours; I desire you | ||
| in friendship, and I will one way or other make you amends. | ||
| [Aloud] | ||
| I will knog your urinals about your knave’s cockscomb | ||
| for missing your meetings and appointments. | ||
| DOCTOR CAIUS | Diable! Jack Rugby,–mine host de Jarteer,–have I | 80 |
| not stay for him to kill him? have I not, at de place | ||
| I did appoint? | ||
| SIR HUGH EVANS | As I am a Christians soul now, look you, this is the | |
| place appointed: I’ll be judgement by mine host of | ||
| the Garter. | 85 | |
| Host | Peace, I say, Gallia and Gaul, French and Welsh, | |
| soul-curer and body-curer! | ||
| DOCTOR CAIUS | Ay, dat is very good; excellent. | |
| Host | Peace, I say! hear mine host of the Garter. Am I | |
| politic? am I subtle? am I a Machiavel? Shall I | 90 | |
| lose my doctor? no; he gives me the potions 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, terrestrial; so. Give me | ||
| thy hand, celestial; so. Boys of art, I have | 95 | |
| deceived you both; I have directed you to wrong | ||
| places: your hearts are mighty, your skins are | ||
| whole, and let burnt sack be the issue. Come, lay | ||
| their swords to pawn. Follow me, lads of peace; | ||
| follow, follow, follow. | 100 | |
| SHALLOW | Trust me, a mad host. Follow, gentlemen, follow. | |
| SLENDER | [Aside] O sweet Anne Page! | |
| [Exeunt SHALLOW, SLENDER, PAGE, and Host] | ||
| DOCTOR CAIUS | Ha, do I perceive dat? have you make-a de sot of | |
| us, ha, ha? | ||
| SIR HUGH EVANS | This is well; he has made us his vlouting-stog. I | 105 |
| desire you that we may be friends; and let us knog | ||
| our prains together to be revenge on this same | ||
| scall, scurvy cogging companion, the host of the Garter. | ||
| DOCTOR CAIUS | By gar, with all my heart. He promise to bring me | |
| where is Anne Page; by gar, he deceive me too. | 110 | |
| SIR HUGH EVANS | Well, I will smite his noddles. Pray you, follow. | |
| [Exeunt] | ||
Next: The Merry Wives of Windsor, Act 3, Scene 2