Fal. I think the devil will not have me damned, best the oil that is in me should set hell on fire; he would never else cross me thus. Enter Sir HUGH EVANS like a satyr; Mrs. QUICKLY and PISTOL; ANNE PAGE as the Fairy Queen, attended by her brother and others, dressed like fairies, with waxen tapers on their heads. Quick. Fairies, black, grey, green and white, Pist. Elves, list your names; silence, you airy toys. Cricket, to Windsor chimney shalt thou leap: Where fires thou find'st unrak'd, and hearths unswept, There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry: shall die: 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, Quick. About, about; Search Windsor Castle, elves, within and out; In emerald tufts, flowers purple, blue, and white; Eva. Pray you, lock hand in hand; yourselves in order set: And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be, Fal. Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy! lest he transform me to a piece of cheese! Pist. Vile worm, thou wast o'erlooked even in 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. Eva. It is right; indeed he is full of lecheries and quity. SONG. Fye on sinful fantasy! Kindled with unchaste desire. Fet in heart; whose flames aspire, As thoughts do blow them, higher and higher Pinch him for his villany; Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about, Till candles, and starlight, and moonshine be out. During this song, the fairies pinch Falstaff. Doc for 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, Forn, 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? Ford. Now, sir, who's a cuckold now? -- Master Brook, Falstaff's a knave, a cockoldly 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 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. Eva. Sir John Falstaff, serve Got, and leave your desires, and fairies will not pinse you. Ford. Well said, fairy Hugh. Era. And leave you your jealousies too, I pray you. Ford. I will never mistrust my wife again, till thou art able to woo her in good English. Fal. Have I laid my brain in the sun, and dried it, that it wants matter to prevent so gross o'erreaching as this? Am I ridden with a Welsh goat too! Shall I have a coxcomb of frize? 'tis time I were choked with a piece of toasted cheese. Era. Seese is not good to give putter; your pelly is all putter. the taunt of one that makes fritters of English! Fal. Seese and putter! Have I lived to stand at This is enough to be the decay of late-walking through the realm. Mrs. Page. Why, sir John, do you think, though the head and shoulders, and have given ourselves we would have thrust virtue out of our hearts by without scruple to hell, that ever the devil could have made you our delight! Ford. What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax? Mrs. Page. A pulled man? Page. Old, cold, withered, and of intolerable entrails. Ford. And one that is as slanderous as Satan? Page. And as poor as Job! 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? of me: I am dejected; I am not able to answer the Fal. Well, I am your theme: you have the start Welsh flannel; ignorance itself is a plummet o'er me: use me as you will. Ford. Marry, sir, we'll bring you to Windsor, tr one master Brook, that you have cozened of money 4 Horns which Falstaff had. A fool's cap of Welsh materials. to whom you should have been a pinder: 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. Puge. Yet be cheerful, knight: thou shalt eat a posset to night at my house; where I will desire thee to laugh at my wife that now laughs at thee: Tell her, master Slender hath married her daughter. Mrs. Page. Doctors doubt that:-If Anne Page be my daughter, she is, by this, doctor Caius's wife. [Aside. Enter SLENDER. Slen. Whoo, ho! ho! father Page! Page. Son! how now! how now, son? have you despatched? Sien. Despatched-I'll make the best in Gloucestershire know on't; would I were hanged, la, else. Page. Of what, son? Sten. I came yonder at Eton to marry mistress Anne Paze, and she's a great lubberly boy: If it had not been i' the church, I would have swinged him, or he should have swinged me. If I did not think it had been Anne Page, would I might never stir, and 'tis a post-master's boy. Page. Upon my life, then, you took the wrong. Sen. 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 cried 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 boys? Page. O, I am 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 the deanery, and there married. Enter CAIUS. Caius. Vere is mistress Page! By gar, I am cozened; I ha' married un garcon, a boy; un paisan, by gar, a boy; it is not Anne Page: by gar, I am cozened. Mrs. Puge. Why, did you take her in green? Cuius. Aye, by gar, and 'tis a boy: by gar, I'll raise all Windsor. Exit CAIUS. Ford. This is strange: Who hath got the right Anne? 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 doc tor, maid! SCENE I.- An Apartment in the Duke's palace. Stealing, and giving odor.- Enough; no more: 'Tis not so sweet now, as it was before. O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou! That notwithstanding thy capacity Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy Cer. Will you go hunt, my lord? Cur. What. Curio? 'The hart. Dike Why, so I do, the noblest that I have: 0, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, Methought, she purg'd the air of pestilence; Enter VALENTINE. Val. So please my lord, I might not be admitted, But from her handmaid do return this answer: The element itself, till seven years' heat, Shall not behold her fice at ample view; But, like a cloistress, she will ve led walk, And water once a day hier chamber round With eye offending brine: all this, to season A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh And lasting, in her sad remembrance. Duke. O she that hath a heart of that fine frame, chance, Assure yourself, after our ship did split, A noble duke, in nature, cystril, that will not drink to my neice, till his brams turn o the to like a parish-top. What, wench? Castiliano vulgo; for here comes sir An drew Ague-face. What is his name? Orsino. Vio. Orsino! I have heard my father name him! He was a bachelor then. Cap. And so is now, Or was so very late: for but a month In the protection of his son, her brother, Who shortly also died: for whose dear love, They say, she hath abjur'd the company And sight of men. Vio. O, that I served that lady: And might not be delivered to the world, Till I had made mine own occasion mellow, What my estate is. Сар. That were hard to compass; Because she will admit no kind of suit, No, not the duke's. Tio. There is a fair behavior in thee, captain; I will believe, thou hast a mind that suits SCENE III. A Room in Olivia's House. Enter Sir ToоBY BELCH, and MARIA. Sir To. What a plague means my neice, to take the death of her brother thus? I am sure care's an enemy to life. Mr. By troth, sir Toby, you must come in earlier o' rights; 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 quafting 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 Ague-cheek? Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria. Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a year. Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats; he's a very fool, and a prodigal. Sir To. Fye, that you'll say so! he plays o' the viol-de-gambo, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature. Mar. He hath, indeed.-almost natural: for, besides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreler; and but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought anong the prudent, he would quickly have the gift of a grave. Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels, and subtractors, that say so of him. Who are they? 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's a passage in my throat, and drink in Illyria: He's a coward, and a Enter Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK. Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, sir Toby Beich? 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 neice'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 mightst never draw sword again. Sir And. And you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw sword again. Fair lady, dɔ you 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. Mar. Now, sir, thought is free: I pray you bring your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink. Sir And. Wherefore, sweet heart? what's your metaphor! Mur. 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. [Exit MARIA. Sir To. O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary When did I see thee so put down? Sir And. Never in your life, I think; unless you see canary put me down: Methinks, sometimes 1 have no more wit than a Christian, or an ordinary man has: but I am a greater eater of beef, and, I believe, that does harm to my wit. Sir To. No question. Sir And. An i thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll ride home to morrow, sir Toby. Sir To. Pourquoy, my dear knight? Si And. What is pourquoy? do or not do? I would I had bestowed that time in the tongues, that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting: 0, had I but followed the arts! Sir To. Then hadst thou an excellent head of hair. Sir And. Why, would that have mended my hair? Sir To. Past question; for thou seest, it will not curl by nature. Sir And. But it becomes me well enough, does't not? Sir To. Excellent; it hangs like flax on a distaff; and I hope to see a housewife take thee between her legs, and spin it off. Sir And. 'Faith, I'll home to-morrow, sir Toby: your niece will not be seen; or, if she be, it's four to one she'll none of me: the count, himself, here hard by, woos her. Sir To. She'll none of the count; she'll not match above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I have heard her swear it. Tut, there's life in't, man. Sir And. I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o' the strangest mind in the world; I delight in masques and revels sometimes altogether. Sir To. Art thou good at these kick-shaws, knight! Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, under the degree of my betters; and yet I will not compare with an old man. Sir To. What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight? Keystril, a bastard hawk. Sir And. 'Faith, I can cut a caper. Sir To. Wherefore are these things hid! wherefore have these gifts a curtain before them? are they like to take dust, like mistress Mall's picture Why dost thou not go to church in a galliard, and come home in a coranto? My very walk should be a jig; I would not so much as make water, but in a sink-a-pace. What dost thou mean? is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was formed under the star of a galliard. Str And. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a flame-colored stock. Shall we set about some revels? Sir To. What shall we do clse? were we not born under Taurus? Sir And. Taurus! that's sides and heart. Sir To. No, sir: it is legs and thighs. Let me see thee caper: ha! higher: ha, ha!-excellent! [Exeunt. SCENE IV. A Room in the Duke's Palace. Enter VALENTINE and VIOLA in man's attire. Val. If the duke continue these favors towards you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced; he hath known you but three days, and already you are no stranger. Vio. You either fear his humor, or my negligence, that you call in question the continuance of his love Is he inconstant, sir, in his favors! Val. No, believe me. Enter Duke, CURIO, and Attendants. Vin. On your attendance, my lord; here. Vin. Sure, my noble lord, Vio. Say, I do speak with her, my lord: What Duke. O, then unfold the passion of my love, Mar. A good lenten' answer: I can tell the where that saying was born, of, I fear no colors. C/o. Where, good mistress Mary? Mar. In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery. Clo. Well, God give them wisdom, that have it and those that are fools, let them use their talents Mar. Yet you will be hanged, for being so long absent; or, be turned away; is not that as good a a hanging to you! Clo. Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and, for turning away, let summer bear it out. Mur. You are resolute then! Clo. Not so neither; but I am resolved on two points. Mar. That, if one break, the other will hold; or, if both break, your gaskins fall. Clo. Apt, in good faith; very apt! Well, go thy way; if sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria. Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that; here comes my lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best. Exit Enter OLIVIA, and MALVOLIO. Clo. Wit, and't be thy will, put me into good fooling! Those wits, that think they have thee, do very oit prove fools; and 1, that am sure I lack For what says Quinapalus! Better a witty fool, than a foolish thee, may pass for a wise man: wit. God bless thee, lady! Oli. Take the fool away. Clo. Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady. Clo. Two faults, madonna,s that drink and good Clo. Misprision in the highest degree! - Lady, Cucullus non facit monachum; that's as much as to say, I wear not motley in my brain. Good madonna, give me leave to prove you a fool. Oi. Can you do it? Clo. Dexterously, good madonna. Oli. Make your proof. Clo. I must catechise you for it, madonna; good my mouse of virtue, answer me. Oli. Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I'll 'bide Clo. Good madonna, why mourn'st thou? Dear lad, believe it; your proof. For this affair:-Some four, or five, attend him; Vio. SCENE V-A Room in Olivia's House. Enter MARIA and Clown. Mr. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter, in way of thy excuse: my lady will hang thee for thy absence. Clo. Let her hang me: he, that is woll-hanged 'n this world, needs to fear no colors. Mar. Make that good. Clo. He shall see none to fear. Conque-pace, the name of a dance. • Full of impediments. 8 Stocking. Clo. The more fool you, madonna, to mourn for your brother's soul being in heaven.-Take away the fool, gentlemen. Oli. What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth he not mend? Mal. Yes: and shall do, till the pangs of death shake him. Infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the better fool. Clo. God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be sworn, that I am no fox; but he will not pass his word for two-pence that you are no fool. Oli. How say you to that. Malvolio? Mal. I marvel your ladyship takes delight_in such a barren rascal; I saw him put down the other day with an ordinary fool, that has no more brain than a stone. Look you now, he's out of his guard already; unless you laugh and minister occasion to him, he's gagged. I protest, I take these wise men, that crow so at these set kind of fools, no better than the fools zanies." Oli. O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and Short and spare. Fools' baubles. • Italian, mistress, dame. |