The Merry Wives of Windsor | Page 5

to them both. Go, bear thou this letter to Mistress Page; and thou this to Mistress Ford. We will thrive, lads, we will thrive.
PISTOL. Shall I Sir Pandarus of Troy become, And by my side wear steel? then Lucifer take all!
NYM. I will run no base humour. Here, take the humour-letter; I will keep the haviour of reputation.
FALSTAFF. [To ROBIN] Hold, sirrah; bear you these letters tightly; Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores. Rogues, hence, avaunt! vanish like hailstones, go; Trudge, plod away o' hoof; seek shelter, pack! Falstaff will learn the humour of this age; French thrift, you rogues; myself, and skirted page.
[Exeunt FALSTAFF and ROBIN.]
PISTOL. Let vultures gripe thy guts! for gourd and fullam holds, And high and low beguile the rich and poor; Tester I'll have in pouch when thou shalt lack, Base Phrygian Turk!
NYM. I have operations in my head which be humours of revenge.
PISTOL. Wilt thou revenge?
NYM. By welkin and her star!
PISTOL. With wit or steel?
NYM. With both the humours, I: I will discuss the humour of this love to Page.
PISTOL. And I to Ford shall eke unfold How Falstaff, varlet vile, His dove will prove, his gold will hold, And his soft couch defile.
NYM. My humour shall not cool: I will incense Page to deal with poison; I will possess him with yellowness, for the revolt of mine is dangerous: that is my true humour.
PISTOL. Thou art the Mars of malcontents; I second thee; troop on.
[Exeunt.]

SCENE 4. A room in DOCTOR CAIUS'S house.
[Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY, and SIMPLE.]
QUICKLY. What, John Rugby!
[Enter RUGBY.]
I pray thee go to the casement, and see if you can see my master, Master Doctor Caius, coming: if he do, i' faith, and find anybody in the house, here will be an old abusing of God's patience and the King's English.
RUGBY. I'll go watch.
QUICKLY. Go; and we'll have a posset for't soon at night, in faith, at the latter end of a sea-coal fire.
[Exit RUGBY.]
An honest, willing, kind fellow, as ever servant shall come in house withal; and, I warrant you, no tell-tale nor no breed-bate; his worst fault is that he is given to prayer; he is something peevish that way; but nobody but has his fault; but let that pass. Peter Simple you say your name is?
SIMPLE. Ay, for fault of a better.
QUICKLY. And Master Slender's your master?
SIMPLE. Ay, forsooth.
QUICKLY. Does he not wear a great round beard, like a glover's paring-knife?
SIMPLE. No, forsooth; he hath but a little whey face, with a little yellow beard--a cane-coloured beard.
QUICKLY. A softly-sprighted man, is he not?
SIMPLE. Ay, forsooth; but he is as tall a man of his hands as any is between this and his head; he hath fought with a warrener.
QUICKLY. How say you?--O! I should remember him. Does he not hold up his head, as it were, and strut in his gait?
SIMPLE. Yes, indeed, does he.
QUICKLY. Well, heaven send Anne Page no worse fortune! Tell Master Parson Evans I will do what I can for your master: Anne is a good girl, and I wish--
[Re-enter RUGBY.]
RUGBY. Out, alas! here comes my master.
QUICKLY. We shall all be shent. Run in here, good young man; go into this closet. [Shuts SIMPLE in the closet.] He will not stay long. What, John Rugby! John! what, John, I say! Go, John, go inquire for my master; I doubt he be not well that he comes not home.
[Exit Rugby.]
[Sings.] And down, down, adown-a, &c.
[Enter DOCTOR CAIUS.]
CAIUS. Vat is you sing? I do not like des toys. Pray you, go and vetch me in my closet une boitine verde--a box, a green-a box: do intend vat I speak? a green-a box.
QUICKLY. Ay, forsooth, I'll fetch it you. [Aside] I am glad he went not in himself: if he had found the young man, he would have been horn-mad.
CAIUS. Fe, fe, fe fe! ma foi, il fait fort chaud. Je m'en vais a la cour-- la grande affaire.
QUICKLY. Is it this, sir?
CAIUS. Oui; mettez le au mon pocket: depechez, quickly--Vere is dat knave, Rugby?
QUICKLY. What, John Rugby? John!
[Re-enter Rugby.]
RUGBY. Here, sir.
CAIUS. You are John Rugby, and you are Jack Rugby: come, take-a your rapier, and come after my heel to de court.
RUGBY. 'Tis ready, sir, here in the porch.
CAIUS. By my trot, I tarry too long--Od's me! Qu'ay j'oublie? Dere is some simples in my closet dat I vill not for the varld I shall leave behind.
QUICKLY. [Aside.] Ay me, he'll find the young man there, and be mad!
CAIUS. O diable, diable! vat is in my closet?--Villainy! larron! [Pulling SIMPLE out.] Rugby, my rapier!
QUICKLY. Good master, be content.
CAIUS. Verefore shall I be content-a?
QUICKLY. The young man is an honest man.
CAIUS. What shall de honest man do in my closet? dere is no honest man dat shall come in my closet.
QUICKLY. I beseech you, be not