foot would give an excellent motion to thy gait in a semi-circled farthingale. I see what thou wert, if Fortune thy foe were not, Nature thy friend. Come, thou canst not hide it.
| Mistress Ford |
Believe me, there’s no such thing in me. |
| Falstaff |
What made me love thee? Let that persuade thee there’s something extraordinary in thee. Come, I cannot cog and say thou art this and that, like a many of these lisping hawthorn-buds that come like women in men’s apparel, and smell like Bucklersbury in simple-time; I cannot; but I love thee, none but thee; and thou deservest it. |
| Mistress Ford |
Do not betray me, sir; I fear you love Mistress Page. |
| Falstaff |
Thou mightst as well say I love to walk by the Counter-gate, which is as hateful to me as the reek of a limekiln. |
| Mistress Ford |
Well, heaven knows how I love you; with meaning and you shall one day find it. |
| Falstaff |
Keep in that mind; I’ll deserve it. |
| Mistress Ford |
Nay, I must tell you, so you do; with meaning or else I could not be in that mind. |
| Robin |
Within. Mistress Ford! Mistress Ford! here’s Mistress Page at the door, sweating and blowing and looking wildly, and would needs speak with you presently. |
| Falstaff |
She shall not see me; I will ensconce me behind the arras. |
| Mistress Ford |
Pray you, do so; she’s a very tattling woman. |
|
Falstaff hides himself. |
|
Re-enter Mistress Page and Robin. |
|
What’s the matter? How now! |
| Mistress Page |
Seeming breathless. O Mistress Ford, what have you done? You’re shamed, you are overthrown, you are undone forever! |
| Mistress Ford |
What’s the matter, good Mistress Page? |
| Mistress Page |
O well-a-day, Mistress Ford! having an honest man to your husband, to give him such cause of suspicion! |
| Mistress Ford |
What cause of suspicion? |
| Mistress Page |
What cause of suspicion? Out upon you! how am I mistook in you! |
| Mistress Ford |
Why, alas, what’s the matter? |
| Mistress Page |
Your husband’s coming hither, woman, with all the officers in Windsor, to search for a gentleman that he says is here now in the house, by your consent, to take an ill advantage of his absence: you are undone. |
| Mistress Ford |
Aside. Speak louder. ’Tis not so, I hope. |
| Mistress Page |
Pray heaven it be not so that you have such a man here! but ’tis most certain your husband’s coming, with half Windsor at his heels, to search for such a one. I come before to tell you. If you know yourself clear, why, I am glad of it; but if you have a friend here, convey, convey him out. Be not amazed; call all your senses to you; defend your reputation, or bid farewell to your good life forever. |
| Mistress Ford |
What shall I do?—There is a gentleman, my dear friend; and I fear not mine own shame as much as his peril: I had rather than a thousand pound he were out of the house. |
| Mistress Page |
For shame! never stand “you had rather” and “you had rather”: your husband’s here at hand; bethink you of some conveyance; in the house you cannot hide him. O, how have you deceived me! Look, here is a basket; if he be of any reasonable stature, he may creep in here; and throw foul linen upon him, as if it were going to bucking: or—it is whiting-time—send him by your two men to Datchet-Mead. |
| Mistress Ford |
He’s too big to go in there. What shall I do? |
| Falstaff |
Coming forward. Let me see’t, let me see’t. O, let me see’t! I’ll in, I’ll in; follow your friend’s counsel; I’ll in. |
| Mistress Page |
What, Sir John Falstaff! In his ear. Are these your letters, knight? |
| Falstaff |
I love thee and none but thee; help me away: let me creep in here. I’ll never— |
|
Voices heard in the street without. He gets into the basket; they cover him with foul linen. |
| Mistress Page |
Help to cover your master, boy. Call your men, Mistress Ford. You dissembling knight! |
| Mistress Ford |
Calling. What, John! Robert! John! |
|
Robin hastily thrusts the remainder of the linen into the basket and runs off. |
|
Re-enter Servants. |
|
Go, take up these clothes here, quickly; where’s the cowl-staff? Look how you drumble! They pass a pole through the handle of the basket. Carry them to the laundress in Datchet-Mead; they hoist the basket, staggering quickly, come. |
|
Enter Ford, Page, Doctor Caius, and Sir Hugh Evans. |
| Ford |
Pray you come near. If I suspect without cause, why then make sport at me, then let me be your jest; I deserve it. How now, whither bear you this? |
| Servant |
To the laundress, forsooth. |
| Mistress Ford |
Why, what have you to do whither they bear it? You were best meddle with buck-washing. |
| Ford |
Buck! I would I could wash myself of the buck! Buck, buck, buck! ay, buck; I warrant you, buck; and of the season too, it shall appear. |
|
Exeunt Servants with the basket. |
|
Gentlemen, I have dreamed tonight; I’ll tell you my dream. Here, here, here be my keys: ascend my chambers; search, seek, find out. I’ll warrant we’ll unkennel the fox. Goes to outer door. Let me stop this way first. Locking the door. So, now uncape. |
| Page |
Good Master Ford, be contented: you wrong yourself too much. |
| Ford |
True, Master Page. Up, gentlemen, you shall see sport anon … Mounts the stairs. Follow me, gentlemen. |
|
They hesitate. Exit Ford. |
| Sir Hugh Evans |
This is fery fantastical humours and jealousies. |
| Doctor Caius |
By gar, ’tis no the fashion of France; it is not jealous in France. |
| Page |
Nay, follow him, gentlemen; see the issue of his search. |
|
Exeunt Sir Hugh Evans, Page, and Doctor Caius. |
| Mistress Page |
Is there not a double excellency in this? |
| Mistress Ford |
I know not which pleases me better, that my husband is deceived, or Sir John. |
| Mistress Page |
What a taking was he in when your husband asked who was in the basket! |
| Mistress Ford |
I am half afraid he will have |