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Enter Mrs Ford and Mrs Page. Mrs Ford. Sir John? art thou there, my deer? my male deer?

Fal. My doe?-Let the sky rain potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of Green Sleeves; hail kissing-comfits, and snow eringoes; I will shelter me here. [Embracing her. Mrs Ford. Mistress Page is come with me,

sweet-heart.

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Mrs Page Away, away.

[They run off.

Fal. I think the devil will not have me; 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,
You moon-shine revellers, and shades of night,
You orphan heirs of fixed destiny,
Attend your office, and your quality.-
Crier Hobgoblin, make the fairy o-yes. [toys.
Pist. Elves, list your names; silence, you airy
Cricket, to Windsor chimnies shalt thou leap:
Where fires thou find'st unrak'd, and hearths un-
There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry: [swept,
Our radiant queen hates sluts and sluttery.
Fal. They are fairies; he, that speaks to them,
shall die:
[eye.
I'll wink and couch: No man their works must
[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,
Raise up the organs of her fantasy,
Sleep she as sound as careless infancy:
But those as sleep, and think not on their sins,
Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides,
Quick. About, about;
[and shins.
Search Windsor Castle, elves, within and out:
Strew good luck, ouphes, on every sacred room;
That it may stand till the perpetual doom,
In state as wholesome, as in state 'tis fit;
Worthy the owner, and the owner it.
The several chairs of order look you scour
With juice of balm, and every precious flower;
Each fair instalment, coat, and several crest,
With royal blazon, evermore be blest!
And nightly, meadow-fairies, look you sing,
Like to the Garter's compass, in a ring:
The expressure that it bears, green let it be,
More fertile-fresh than all the field to see;
And, Hon y soit qui mal y pense, write,
In emerald tufts, flowers purple, blue, and white;
Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery,
Buckled below fair knighthood's bending knee:

Fairies use flowers for their charactery,
Away; disperse: But, till 'tis one o'clock,
Our dance of custom, round about the oak
Of Herne the hunter, let us not forget.

Eva. Pray you, lock hand in hand; yourselves
in order set:

And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be,
To guide our measure round about the tree.
But, stay; I smell a man of middle earth.

F. 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.

Eva. 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 iniquity.
SONG.

Fye on sinful fantasy!
Fye on lust and luxury!
Lust is but a bloody fire,

Kindled with unchaste desire,
Fed in heart; whose flames aspire,
As thoughts do blow them,higher and higher.
Pinch him, fairies, mutually;

Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about,
Pinch him for his villainy;
Till candles, and starlight,andmoonshine be out.
[During this song, the fairies pinch Falstaff.
Doctor 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, Ford, 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?
Mrs Page. I pray you, come; hold up the
jest no higher:-
[wives?
Now, good Sir John, how like you Windsor
See you these, husband? do not these fair yokes1
Become the forest better than the town?

Ford. Now, sir, who's a cuckold now?-Master Brook, Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldy knave; here are his horns, master Brook: And, master Brook, he hath enjoyed nothing of Ford's but his buck-basket, his cudgel, and twenty pounds of money; which must be paid to master Brook his horses are arrested for it, master Brook.

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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. F. I do begin to perceive that I am made an ass. 1 Falstaff's horns.

Ford. Ay, and an ox too; both the proofs are extant.

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,1 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.

Eva. 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'er-reaching as this? Am I ridden with a Welsh goat too? Shall I have a coxcomb of frize?2 'tis time I were choked with a piece of toasted cheese. Eva. Seese is not good to give putter; your pelly is all putter.

Fal. Seese and putter! Have I lived to stand at the taunt of one that makes fritters of English? This is enough to be the decay of latewalking through the realm.

Mrs Page. Why, Sir John, do you think, though we would have thrust virtue out of our hearts by the head and shoulders, and have given ourselves 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 puffed man?

Page. Old, and withered?

Sl. Despatched-I'll make the best in Glocestershire know on't; would I were hanged, la, else. Page. Of what, son?

Slen. I came yonder at Eton to marry mistress Anne Page, and she's a great lubberly boy: If it had not been i' the church, I would have swinged1 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. Slen. 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?

Sl. I went to her in white, and cry'd 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. 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 garçon, a boy; un paisan, by gar, a boy; it is not Anne Page: by gar, I am cozened.

Mrs Page. Why, did you take her in green?
Caius. Ay, by gar, and 'tis a boy: by gar,
I'll raise all Windsor.
[Exit Caius.

Ford. This is strange: Who hath got the

Ford. And one that is as slanderous as Satan? right Anne?
Page. And as poor as Job?

Ford. And as wicked as his wife?

Eva. And given to taverns, and sack, and wine, and metheglins, and to drinkings, and swearings, and starings, pribbles, and prabbles?

Fal. Well, I am your theme: you have the start of me: I am dejected; I am not able to answer the Welsh flannel; ignorance itself is a plummet o'er me: use me as you will.

Ford. Marry, sir, we'll bring you to Windsor, to one master Brook, that you have cozened of money, to whom you should have been a pander: 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.
F. Well, here's my hand; all's forgiven at last.
P.Yet be cheerful, knight: thou shalt eat a pos-
set 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?

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Page. My heart misgives me: Here comes master Fenton.

Enter Fenton and Anne Page.
How now, master Fenton? [pardon!
Anne. Pardon, good father! good my mother,
Page. Now, mistress! how chance you went
not with master Slender?
[maid?

Mrs P. Why went you not with master doctor,
Fent. You do amaze her: Hear the truth of it.
You would have married her most shamefully,
Where there was no proportion held in love.
The truth is, she and I, long since contracted,
Are now so sure, that nothing can dissolve us.
The offence is holy, that she hath committed:
And this deceit loses the name of craft,
Of disobedience, or unduteous title;
Since therein she doth evitate and shnn
A thousand irreligious cursed hours,
Which forced marriage would have brought upon
Ford. Stand not amazed: here is no remedy:-
In love, the heavens themselvesdo guidethe state;
Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate.

[her.

Fal. I am glad, though you have ta'en a special stand to strike at me, that your arrow hath glanced.

Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven give thee joy?

What cannot be eschew'd must be embrac❜d. 1 Thrashed.

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SEBASTIAN, a young Gentleman, Brother to Viola. ANTONIO, a Sea-Captain, Friend to Sebastian. A SEA-CAPTAIN, Friend to Viola.

FABIAN, CLOWN, J

Servants to Olivia.

OLIVIA, a rich Countess.

VALENTINE, Gentlemen attending on the Duke. VIOLA, in love with the Duke.

CURIO,

SIR TOBY BELCH, Uncle of Olivia. SIR ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK.

MALVOLIO, Steward to Olivia.

MARIA, Olivia's woman.

Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and other Attendants.

SCENE. A city in Illyria; and the Sea-Coast near it.

Act First.

SCENE I.

AN APARTMENT IN THE DUKE'S PALACE.

Enter Duke, Curio, Lords; Musicians attending.
Duke. If musick be the food of love, play on,
Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again;-it had a dying fall:
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south,
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing, and giving odour.-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
Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
Of what validity and pitch soever,
But falls into abatement and low price,
Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy
That it alone is high-fantastical.

Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord?
Duke.
What, Curio?
The hart.

Cur.

Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have: O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, Methought she purg'd the air of pestilence; That instant was I turned into a hart; And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, E'er since pursue me.-How now? what news from her?

Enter Valentine.

V. 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 face at ample view; But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk, And water once a day her chamber round

To

With eye-offending brine: all this, to season
A brother's dead love, which she would keep
And lasting, in her sad remembrance. [fresh,
D. O, she, that hath a heart of that fine frame,
How will she love, when the rich golden shaft
pay this debt of love but to a brother,
Hath killed the flock of all affections else
That live in her! when liver, brain, and heart,
These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and
fill'd

(Her sweet perfections) with one self king!-
Away before me to sweet beds of flowers;
Love-thoughts lie rich, when canopied with
bowers.
[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-THE SEA COAST. Enter Viola, Captain, and Sailors, Vio. What country, friends, is this? Сар. Illyria, lady. Vio. And what should I do in Illyria? My brother he is in Elysium. [sailors? Perchance, he is not drown'd:-What think you, Cap. It is perchance that you yourself were saved.

Vio. O my poor brother! and so, perchance, may he be.

Cap. True, madam: and to comfort you with

chance,

Assure yourself, after our ship did split,
When you, and that poor number saved with you,
Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,
Most provident in peril, bind himself
(Courage and hope both teaching him the prac-
To a strong mast, that lived upon the sea; [tice)
Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,
I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves,
So long as I could see.

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Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count
That died some twelvemonth since; then leaving
In the protection of his son, her brother, [her
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.

Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain;
And though that nature with a beauteous wall
Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee
I will believe, thou hast a mind that suits
With this thy fair and outward character.
I pray thee, and I'll pay thee bounteously,
Conceal me what I am; and be my aid
For such disguise as, haply, shall become
The form of my intent. I'll serve this duke;
Thou shalt present me as a page to him,
It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing,
And speak to him in many sorts of musick,
That will allow me very worth his service.
What else may hap, to time I will commit;
Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.

Cap. Be you his page, and I your mute will be: When my tongue blabs, let mine eyes not see! Vio. I thank thee, lead me on. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-A ROOM IN OLIVIA'S HOUSE.

Enter Sir Toby Belch and Maria.

Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take the death of her brother thus? I am sure, care's an enemy to life.

Mar. By troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o'nights; 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 quaffing 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?
Mar. Ay, he.

Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.
Mar. What's that to the purpose?

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 quarreller; and but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the prudent he would quickly have the gift of a grave.

Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels, and substractors, 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 is a passage in my throat, and drink in Illyria: He's a coward, and a coystril, that will not drink to my niece, till his brains turn o' the toe like a parish top. Here comes Sir Andrew Ague-face.

Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek.

Sir A. Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby Belch?

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 niece'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. Is that the meaning of accost?
Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen.

Sir To. An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, 'would thou might'st never draw sword again.

Sir And. An you part so, mistress, I would might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do 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.

M. 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?

I

Mur. It's dry, sir.

Sir A.Why, I think so; I am not such an ass but can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest? 1 Keystril, a bastard hawk.

Mar. A dry jest, sir.

Sir And. Are you full of them? Mar. Ay, sir; I have them at my fingers' ends. [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 I have no more wit than an ordinary man has; but I am a great 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? Sir 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: O, had I but followed the arts!

Sir To. Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.

Sir A. 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.

Sir And. 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, wooes her.

Sir To. She'll none o' 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 i' 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?

Sir And. I can cut a caper.

Sir To. And I can cut the mutton to't. Sir And. Shall we set about some revels? Sir To. What shall we do else?-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 favours to wards 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 humour, or my negligence, that you call in question the continuance of his love: Is he inconstant, sir, in his favours? Val. No, believe me.

Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants. Vio. I thank you. Here comes the count. Duke. Who saw Cesario, ho?

Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here.

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Dear lad, believe it;

Duke. O, then unfold the passion of my love, Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith; It shall become thee well to act my woes; She will attend it better in thy youth, Than in a nuncio of grave aspect. Vio. I think not so, my lord. Duke. For they shall yet belie thy happy years That say, thou art a man: Diana's lip Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe Is as the maiden's organ, shrill, and sound, And all its semblative a woman's part. I know, thy constellation is right apt, For this affair:-Some four, or five, attend him; All, if you will; for I myself am best, When least in company:-Prosper well in this, And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord, To call his fortunes thine.

Vio.

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I'll do my best, To woo your lady: yet, [Aside.] a barfull strife!

Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife. [Exeunt.

SCENE V.-A ROOM IN OLIVIA'S HOUSE.

Enter Maria and Clown.

Mar. 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 well hanged in this world, needs to fear no colours. Mar. Make that good.

Clo. He shall see none to fear.

Mar. A good lenten2 answer: I can tell thee where that saying was born of, I fear no colours. Clo. Where, good mistress Mary?

Mar. In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery.

Clo. Well, Heaven give them wisdom, that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents.

long absent: or, to be turned away; is not that Mar. Yet you will be hanged, for being so as good as a hanging to you?

Clo. Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and, for turning away, let summer

bear it out.

Mar. You are resolute, then?

Clo. Not so neither; but I am resolved on two points.

Mar. That, if one break, the other will hold. 1 Full of impediments. 2 Sparing.

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