ACT III SCENE 1.
A field near Frogmore
Enter SIR HUGH EVANS and SIMPLE
| EVANS. | I pray you now, good Master Slender's serving-man,
and friend Simple by your name, which way have you
look'd for Master Caius, that calls himself Doctor of
Physic?
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| SIMPLE. | Marry, sir, the pittie-ward, the park-ward; every
way; old Windsor way, and every way but the town way.
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| EVANS. | I most fehemently desire you you will also look that
way.
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| SIMPLE. | I will, Sir
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Exit
| EVANS. | Pless my soul, how full of chollors I am, and 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 goot opportunities for the ork. Pless
my soul! [Sings]
To shallow rivers, to whose falls
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. [Sings]
Melodious birds sing madrigals-
Whenas I sat in Pabylon-
And a thousand vagram posies.
To shallow, etc.
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Re-enter SIMPLE
| SIMPLE. | Yonder he is, coming this way, Sir Hugh.
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| EVANS. | He's welcome
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[Sings]
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To shallow rivers, to whose falls-
Heaven prosper the right! What weapons is he?
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| SIMPLE. | No weapons, sir. There comes my master, Master
Shallow, and another gentleman, from Frogmore, over the
stile, this way.
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| EVANS. | Pray you give me my gown; or else keep it in your
arms
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[Takes out a book]
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.
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| SLENDER. | [Aside] Ah, sweet Anne Page!
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| PAGE. | Save you, good Sir Hugh!
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| EVANS. | Pless you from his mercy sake, all of you!
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| SHALLOW. | What, the sword and the word! Do you study
them both, Master Parson?
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| PAGE. | And youthful still, in your doublet and hose, this raw
rheumatic day!
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| EVANS. | There is reasons and causes for it.
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| PAGE. | We are come to you to do a good office, Master
Parson.
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| EVANS. | Fery well; what is it?
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| 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.
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| SHALLOW. | I have lived fourscore years and upward; I never
heard a man of his place, gravity, and learning, so wide of
his own respect.
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| EVANS. | What is he?
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| PAGE. | I think you know him: Master Doctor Caius, the
renowned French physician.
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| EVANS. | Got's will and his passion of my heart! I had as lief
you would tell me of a mess of porridge.
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| PAGE. | Why?
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| EVANS. | He has no more knowledge in Hibocrates and
Galen, and he is a knave besides-a cowardly knave as you
would desires to be acquainted withal.
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| PAGE. | I warrant you, he's the man should fight with him.
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| SLENDER. | [Aside] O sweet Anne Page!
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| SHALLOW. | It appears so, by his weapons. Keep them asunder;
here comes Doctor Caius.
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Enter HOST, CAIUS, and RUGBY
| PAGE. | Nay, good Master Parson, keep in your weapon.
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| SHALLOW. | So do you, good Master Doctor.
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| HOST. | Disarm them, and let them question; let them keep
their limbs whole and hack our English.
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| CAIUS. | I pray you, let-a me speak a word with your ear.
Verefore will you not meet-a me?
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| EVANS. | [Aside to CAIUS] Pray you use your patience; in
good time.
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| CAIUS. | By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog, John ape.
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| EVANS. | [Aside to CAIUS] Pray you, let us not be
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 cogscomb
for missing your meetings and appointments.
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| CAIUS. | Diable! Jack Rugby-mine Host de Jarteer-have I
not stay for him to kill him? Have I not, at de place I did
appoint?
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| EVANS. | As I am a Christians soul, now, look you, this is the
place appointed. I'll be judgment by mine host of the
Garter.
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| HOST. | Peace, I say, Gallia and Gaul, French and Welsh,
soul-curer and body-curer.
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| CAIUS. | Ay, dat is very good! excellent!
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| HOST. | Peace, I say. Hear mine host of the Garter. Am I
politic? am I subtle? am I a Machiavel? Shall I 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 noverbs. Give me thy hand, terrestrial;
so. Give me thy hand, celestial; so. 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 let burnt
sack be the issue. Come, lay their swords to pawn. Follow
me, lads of peace; follow, follow, follow.
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| SHALLOW. | Trust me, a mad host. Follow, gentlemen, follow.
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| SLENDER. | [Aside] O sweet Anne Page!
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Exeunt all but CAIUS and EVANS
| CAIUS. | Ha, do I perceive dat? Have you make-a de sot of us,
ha, ha?
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| EVANS. | This is well; he has made us his vlouting-stog. I
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.
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| CAIUS. | By gar, with all my heart. He promise to bring me
where is Anne Page; by gar, he deceive me too.
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| EVANS. | Well, I will smite his noddles. Pray you follow.
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Exeunt
Next
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ACT III SCENE 1.