The Merry Wives of Windsor by William Shakespeare, 1564-1616

Exit SIR HUGH EVANS

Get you home, boy. Come, we stay too long.

Exeunt

Scene 2

A room in FORD’S house.

Enter FALSTAFF and MISTRESS FORD

FALSTAFF Mistress Ford, your sorrow hath eaten up my

sufferance. I see you are obsequious in your love,

and I profess requital to a hair’s breadth; not

only, Mistress Ford, in the simple

office of love, but in all the accoutrement,

complement and ceremony of it. But are you

sure of your husband now?

MISTRESS FORD He’s a-birding, sweet Sir John.

MISTRESS PAGE [Within]

What, ho, gossip Ford! what, ho!

MISTRESS FORD Step into the chamber, Sir John.

Exit FALSTAFF

Enter MISTRESS PAGE

MISTRESS PAGE How now, sweetheart! who’s at home besides yourself?

MISTRESS FORD Why, none but mine own people.

MISTRESS PAGE Indeed!

MISTRESS FORD No, certainly.

Aside to her

Speak louder.

MISTRESS PAGE Truly, I am so glad you have nobody here.

MISTRESS FORD Why?

MISTRESS PAGE Why, woman, your husband is in his old lunes again:

he so takes on yonder with my husband; so rails

against all married mankind; so curses all Eve’s

daughters, of what complexion soever; and so buffets

himself on the forehead, crying, ‘Peer out, peer

out!’ that any madness I ever yet beheld seemed but

tameness, civility and patience, to this his

distemper he is in now: I am glad the fat knight is not here.

MISTRESS FORD Why, does he talk of him?

MISTRESS PAGE Of none but him; and swears he was carried out, the

last time he searched for him, in a basket; protests

to my husband he is now here, and hath drawn him and

the rest of their company from their sport, to make

another experiment of his suspicion: but I am glad

the knight is not here; now he shall see his own foolery.

MISTRESS FORD How near is he, Mistress Page?

MISTRESS PAGE Hard by; at street end; he will be here anon.

MISTRESS FORD I am undone! The knight is here.

MISTRESS PAGE Why then you are utterly shamed, and he’s but a dead

man. What a woman are you!–Away with him, away

with him! better shame than murder.

FORD Which way should be go? how should I bestow him?

Shall I put him into the basket again?

Re-enter FALSTAFF

FALSTAFF No, I’ll come no more i’ the basket. May I not go

out ere he come?

MISTRESS PAGE Alas, three of Master Ford’s brothers watch the door

with pistols, that none shall issue out; otherwise

you might slip away ere he came. But what make you here?

FALSTAFF What shall I do? I’ll creep up into the chimney.

MISTRESS FORD There they always use to discharge their

birding-pieces. Creep into the kiln-hole.

FALSTAFF Where is it?

MISTRESS FORD He will seek there, on my word. Neither press,

coffer, chest, trunk, well, vault, but he hath an

abstract for the remembrance of such places, and

goes to them by his note: there is no hiding you in the house.

FALSTAFF I’ll go out then.

MISTRESS PAGE If you go out in your own semblance, you die, Sir

John. Unless you go out disguised–

MISTRESS FORD How might we disguise him?

MISTRESS PAGE Alas the day, I know not! There is no woman’s gown

big enough for him otherwise he might put on a hat,

a muffler and a kerchief, and so escape.

FALSTAFF Good hearts, devise something: any extremity rather

than a mischief.

MISTRESS FORD My maid’s aunt, the fat woman of Brentford, has a

gown above.

MISTRESS PAGE On my word, it will serve him; she’s as big as he

is: and there’s her thrummed hat and her muffler

too. Run up, Sir John.

MISTRESS FORD Go, go, sweet Sir John: Mistress Page and I will

look some linen for your head.

MISTRESS PAGE Quick, quick! we’ll come dress you straight: put

on the gown the while.

Exit FALSTAFF

MISTRESS FORD I would my husband would meet him in this shape: he

cannot abide the old woman of Brentford; he swears

she’s a witch; forbade her my house and hath

threatened to beat her.

MISTRESS PAGE Heaven guide him to thy husband’s cudgel, and the

devil guide his cudgel afterwards!

MISTRESS FORD But is my husband coming?

MISTRESS PAGE Ah, in good sadness, is he; and talks of the basket

too, howsoever he hath had intelligence.

MISTRESS FORD We’ll try that; for I’ll appoint my men to carry the

basket again, to meet him at the door with it, as

they did last time.

MISTRESS PAGE Nay, but he’ll be here presently: let’s go dress him

like the witch of Brentford.

MISTRESS FORD I’ll first direct my men what they shall do with the

basket. Go up; I’ll bring linen for him straight.

Exit

MISTRESS PAGE Hang him, dishonest varlet! we cannot misuse him enough.

We’ll leave a proof, by that which we will do,

Wives may be merry, and yet honest too:

We do not act that often jest and laugh;

‘Tis old, but true, Still swine eat all the draff.

Exit

Re-enter MISTRESS FORD with two Servants

MISTRESS FORD Go, sirs, take the basket again on your shoulders:

your master is hard at door; if he bid you set it

down, obey him: quickly, dispatch.

Exit

First Servant Come, come, take it up.

Second Servant Pray heaven it be not full of knight again.

First Servant I hope not; I had as lief bear so much lead.

Enter FORD, PAGE, SHALLOW, DOCTOR CAIUS, and SIR HUGH EVANS

FORD Ay, but if it prove true, Master Page, have you any

way then to unfool me again? Set down the basket,

villain! Somebody call my wife. Youth in a basket!

O you panderly rascals! there’s a knot, a ging, a

pack, a conspiracy against me: now shall the devil

be shamed. What, wife, I say! Come, come forth!

Behold what honest clothes you send forth to bleaching!

PAGE Why, this passes, Master Ford; you are not to go

loose any longer; you must be pinioned.

SIR HUGH EVANS Why, this is lunatics! this is mad as a mad dog!

SHALLOW Indeed, Master Ford, this is not well, indeed.

FORD So say I too, sir.

Re-enter MISTRESS FORD

Come hither, Mistress Ford; Mistress Ford the honest

woman, the modest wife, the virtuous creature, that

hath the jealous fool to her husband! I suspect

without cause, mistress, do I?

MISTRESS FORD Heaven be my witness you do, if you suspect me in

any dishonesty.

FORD Well said, brazen-face! hold it out. Come forth, sirrah!

Pulling clothes out of the basket

PAGE This passes!

MISTRESS FORD Are you not ashamed? let the clothes alone.

FORD I shall find you anon.

SIR HUGH EVANS ‘Tis unreasonable! Will you take up your wife’s

clothes? Come away.

FORD Empty the basket, I say!

MISTRESS FORD Why, man, why?

FORD Master Page, as I am a man, there was one conveyed

out of my house yesterday in this basket: why may

not he be there again? In my house I am sure he is:

my intelligence is true; my jealousy is reasonable.

Pluck me out all the linen.

MISTRESS FORD If you find a man there, he shall die a flea’s death.

PAGE Here’s no man.

SHALLOW By my fidelity, this is not well, Master Ford; this

wrongs you.

SIR HUGH EVANS Master Ford, you must pray, and not follow the

imaginations of your own heart: this is jealousies.

FORD Well, he’s not here I seek for.

PAGE No, nor nowhere else but in your brain.

FORD Help to search my house this one time. If I find

not what I seek, show no colour for my extremity; let

me for ever be your table-sport; let them say of

me, ‘As jealous as Ford, Chat searched a hollow

walnut for his wife’s leman.’ Satisfy me once more;

once more search with me.

MISTRESS FORD What, ho, Mistress Page! come you and the old woman

down; my husband will come into the chamber.

FORD Old woman! what old woman’s that?

MISTRESS FORD Nay, it is my maid’s aunt of Brentford.

FORD A witch, a quean, an old cozening quean! Have I not

forbid her my house? She comes of errands, does

she? We are simple men; we do not know what’s

brought to pass under the profession of

fortune-telling. She works by charms, by spells,

by the figure, and such daubery as this is, beyond

our element we know nothing. Come down, you witch,

you hag, you; come down, I say!

MISTRESS FORD Nay, good, sweet husband! Good gentlemen, let him

not strike the old woman.

Re-enter FALSTAFF in woman’s clothes, and MISTRESS PAGE

MISTRESS PAGE Come, Mother Prat; come, give me your hand.

FORD I’ll prat her.

Beating him

Out of my door, you witch, you hag, you baggage, you

polecat, you runyon! out, out! I’ll conjure you,

I’ll fortune-tell you.

Exit FALSTAFF

MISTRESS PAGE Are you not ashamed? I think you have killed the

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