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SIR JOHN Speak, good Master Brooke. I shall be glad to be your servant.

FORD Sir, I hear you are a scholar—I will be brief with you—and you have been a man long known to me, though I had never so good means as desire to make myself acquainted with you. I shall discover a thing to you wherein I must very much lay open mine own imperfection; but, good Sir John, as you have one eye upon my follies, as you hear them unfolded, turn another into the register of your own, that I may pass with a reproof the easier, sith you yourself know how easy it is to be such an offender.

SIR JOHN Very well, sir, proceed.

FORD There is a gentlewoman in this town; her husband’s name is Ford.

SIR JOHN Well, sir.

FORD I have long loved her, and, I protest to you, bestowed much on her, followed her with a doting observance, engrossed opportunities to meet her, fee’d every slight occasion that could but niggardly give me sight of her; not only bought many presents to give her, but have given largely to many to know what she would have given. Briefly, I have pursued her as love hath pursued me, which hath been on the wing of all occasions. But, whatsoever I have merited, either in my mind or in my means, meed I am sure I have received none, unless experience be a jewel. That I have purchased at an infinite rate, and that hath taught me to say this: ‘Love like a shadow flies when substance love pursues, Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues.’

SIR JOHN Have you received no promise of satisfaction at her hands?

FORD Never.

SIR JOHN Have you importuned her to such a purpose?

FORD Never.

SIR JOHN Of what quality was your love then?

FORD Like a fair house built on another man’s ground, so that I have lost my edifice by mistaking the place where I erected it.

SIR JOHN To what purpose have you unfolded this to me?

FORD When I have told you that, I have told you all. Some say that though she appear honest to me, yet in other places she enlargeth her mirth so far that there is shrewd construction made of her. Now, Sir John, here is the heart of my purpose. You are a gentleman of excellent breeding, admirable discourse, of great admittance, authentic in your place and person, generally allowed for your many warlike, court-like, and learned preparations.

SIR JOHN O sir!

FORD Believe it, for you know it. There is money.

He offers money

Spend it, spend it; spend more; spend all I have; only give me so much of your time in exchange of it as to lay an amiable siege to the honesty of this Ford’s wife. Use your art of wooing, win her to consent to you. If any man may, you may as soon as any.

SIR JOHN Would it apply well to the vehemency of your affection that I should win what you would enjoy? Methinks you prescribe to yourself very preposterously.

FORD O, understand my drift. She dwells so securely on the excellency of her honour that the folly of my soul dares not present itself. She is too bright to be looked against. Now, could I come to her with any detection in my hand, my desires had instance and argument to commend themselves. I could drive her then from the ward of her purity, her reputation, her marriage vow, and a thousand other her defences which now are too too strongly embattled against me. What say you to’t, Sir John?

SIR JOHN Master Brooke, I will first make bold with your money.

He takes the money

Next, give me your hand.

He takes his hand

And last, as I am a gentleman, you shall, if you will, enjoy Ford’s wife.

FORD O, good sir!

SIR JOHN I say you shall.

FORD Want no money, Sir John, you shall want none.

SIR JOHN Want no Mistress Ford, Master Brooke, you shall want none. I shall be with her, I may tell you, by her own appointment. Even as you came in to me, her spokesmate, or go-between, parted from me. I say I shall be with her between ten and eleven, for at that time the jealous rascally knave her husband will be forth. Come you to me at night; you shall know how I speed.

FORD I am blessed in your acquaintance. Do you know Ford, sir?

SIR JOHN Hang him, poor cuckoldly knave, I know him not. Yet I wrong him to call him poor. They say the jealous wittolly knave hath masses of money, for the which his wife seems to me well favoured. I will use her as the key of the cuckoldly rogue’s coffer, and there’s my harvest-home.

FORD I would you knew Ford, sir, that you might avoid him if you saw him.

SIR JOHN Hang him, mechanical salt-butter rogue! I will stare him out of his wits. I will awe him with my cudgel; it shall hang like a meteor o’er the cuckold’s horns. Master Brooke, thou shalt know I will predominate over the peasant, and thou shalt lie with his wife. Come to me soon at night. Ford’s a knave, and I will aggravate his style: thou, Master Brooke, shalt know him for knave and cuckold. Come to me soon at night. Exit

FORD What a damned epicurean rascal is this! My heart is ready to crack with impatience. Who says this is improvident jealousy? My wife hath sent to him, the hour is fixed, the match is made. Would any man have thought this? See the hell of having a false woman! My bed shall be abused, my coffers ransacked, my reputation gnawn at, and I shall not only receive this villainous wrong, but stand under the adoption of abominable terms, and by him that does me this wrong. Terms! Names! ‘Amaimon’ sounds well, ‘Lucifer’ well, ‘Barbason’ well; yet they are devils’ additions, the names of fiends. But ‘cuckold’, ‘wittot’! ’Cuckold‘—the devil himself hath not such a name. Page is an ass, a secure ass. He will trust his wife, he will not be jealous. I will rather trust a Fleming with my butter, Parson Hugh the Welshman with my cheese, an Irishman with my aqua-vitae bottle, or a thief to walk my ambling gelding, than my wife with herself. Then she plots, then she ruminates, then she devises; and what they think in their hearts they may effect, they will break their hearts but they will effect. God be praised for my jealousy! Eleven o’clock the hour. I will prevent this, detect my wife, be revenged on Falstaff, and laugh at Page. I will about it. Better three hours too soon than a minute too late. God’s my life: cuckold, cuckold, cuckold! Exit

2.3 Enter Doctor Caius and John Rugby, with rapiers CAIUS Jack Rugby!

RUGBY Sir.

CAIUS Vat is the clock, Jack?

RUGBY ’Tis past the hour, sir, that Sir Hugh promised to meet.

CAIUS By Gar, he has save his soul dat he is no come; he has pray his Pible well dat he is no come. By Gar, Jack Rugby, he is dead already if he be come.

RUGBY He is wise, sir, he knew your worship would kill him if he came.

CAIUS ⌈drawing his rapier⌉ By Gar, de herring is no dead so as I vill kill him. Take your rapier, Jack. I vill tell you how I vill kill him.

RUGBY Alas, sir, I cannot fence.

CAIUS Villainy, take your rapier.

RUGBY Forbear: here’s company.

Caius sheathes his rapier.

Enter the Host of the Garter, Justice Shallow,

Master Page, and Master Slender

HOST God bless thee, bully Doctor.

SHALLOW God save you, Master Doctor Caius.

PAGE Now, good Master Doctor.

SLENDER Give you good morrow, sir.

CAIUS Vat be all you, one, two, tree, four, come for?

HOST To see thee fight, to see thee foin, to see thee traverse, to see thee here, to see thee there; to see thee pass thy punto, thy stock, thy reverse, thy distance, thy montant. Is he dead, my Ethiopian? Is he dead, my Francisco? Ha, bully? What says my Aesculapius, my Galen, my heart of elder, ha? Is he dead, bully stale? Is he dead?

CAIUS By Gar, he is de coward jack-priest of de vorld. He is not show his face.

HOST Thou art a Castalian King Urinal, Hector of Greece, my boy.