The Merry Wives of Windsor | Page 8

comfort in this mystery of ill opinions, here's the
twin-brother of thy letter; but let thine inherit first, for, I protest, mine
never shall. I warrant he hath a thousand of these letters, writ with
blank space for different names, sure, more, and these are of the second
edition. He will print them, out of doubt; for he cares not what he puts
into the press, when he would put us two: I had rather be a giantess and
lie under Mount Pelion. Well, I will find you twenty lascivious turtles
ere one chaste man.
MRS. FORD. Why, this is the very same; the very hand, the very
words. What doth he think of us?
MRS. PAGE. Nay, I know not; it makes me almost ready to wrangle
with mine own honesty. I'll entertain myself like one that I am not
acquainted withal; for, sure, unless he know some strain in me that I
know not myself, he would never have boarded me in this fury.
MRS. FORD. 'Boarding' call you it? I'll be sure to keep him above
deck.
MRS. PAGE. So will I; if he come under my hatches, I'll never to sea
again. Let's be revenged on him; let's appoint him a meeting, give him a
show of comfort in his suit, and lead him on with a fine-baited delay,
till he hath pawned his horses to mine host of the Garter.
MRS. FORD. Nay, I will consent to act any villainy against him that
may not sully the chariness of our honesty. O, that my husband saw this
letter! It would give eternal food to his jealousy.
MRS. PAGE. Why, look where he comes; and my good man too: he's
as far from jealousy as I am from giving him cause; and that, I hope, is
an unmeasurable distance.
MRS. FORD. You are the happier woman.
MRS. PAGE. Let's consult together against this greasy knight. Come
hither.
[They retire.]
[Enter FORD, PISTOL, and PAGE and NYM.]
FORD. Well, I hope it be not so.
PISTOL. Hope is a curtal dog in some affairs: Sir John affects thy wife.
FORD. Why, sir, my wife is not young.
PISTOL. He woos both high and low, both rich and poor, Both young
and old, one with another, Ford; He loves the gallimaufry. Ford,

perpend.
FORD. Love my wife!
PISTOL. With liver burning hot: prevent, or go thou, Like Sir Actaeon
he, with Ringwood at thy heels.-- O! odious is the name!
FORD. What name, sir?
PISTOL. The horn, I say. Farewell: Take heed; have open eye, for
thieves do foot by night; Take heed, ere summer comes, or cuckoo
birds do sing. Away, Sir Corporal Nym. Believe it, Page; he speaks
sense.
[Exit PISTOL.]
FORD. [Aside] I will be patient: I will find out this.
NYM. [To PAGE] And this is true; I like not the humour of lying. He
hath wronged me in some humours: I should have borne the humoured
letter to her; but I have a sword, and it shall bite upon my necessity. He
loves your wife; there's the short and the long. My name is Corporal
Nym; I speak, and I avouch 'tis true. My name is Nym, and Falstaff
loves your wife. Adieu. I love not the humour of bread and cheese; and
there's the humour of it. Adieu.
[Exit NYM.]
PAGE. [Aside.] 'The humour of it,' quoth 'a! Here's a fellow frights
English out of his wits.
FORD. I will seek out Falstaff.
PAGE. I never heard such a drawling, affecting rogue.
FORD. If I do find it: well.
PAGE. I will not believe such a Cataian, though the priest o' the town
commended him for a true man.
FORD. 'Twas a good sensible fellow: well.
PAGE. How now, Meg!
MRS. PAGE. Whither go you, George?--Hark you.
MRS. FORD. How now, sweet Frank! why art thou melancholy?
FORD. I melancholy! I am not melancholy. Get you home, go.
MRS. FORD. Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy head now. Will
you go, Mistress Page?
MRS. PAGE. Have with you. You'll come to dinner, George? [Aside to
MRS. FORD] Look who comes yonder: she shall be our messenger to
this paltry knight.
MRS. FORD. [Aside to MRS. PAGE] Trust me, I thought on her: she'll

fit it.
[Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY.]
MRS. PAGE. You are come to see my daughter Anne?
QUICKLY. Ay, forsooth; and, I pray, how does good Mistress Anne?
MRS. PAGE. Go in with us and see; we'd have an hour's talk with you.
[Exeunt MISTRESS PAGE, MISTRESS FORD, and MISTRESS
QUICKLY.]
PAGE. How now, Master Ford!
FORD. You heard what this knave told me, did you not?
PAGE. Yes; and you heard what the other told me?
FORD. Do you think there is truth in them?
PAGE. Hang 'em, slaves! I do