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SCENE I

A field near Frogmore.
Enter SIR HUGH EVANS and SIMPLE.

Evans.
I pray you now, good Master Slender's
serving-man, and friend Simple by your
name, which way have you looked for Master
Caius, that calls himself doctor of physic?

Sim.
Marry, sir, the pittie-ward, the park-ward,
every way; old Windsor way, and
every way but the town way.

Evans.
I most fehemently desire you you
will also look that way. (10)

Sim.
I will, sir.
[Exit.


Evans.
'Pless my soul, how full of chollors
I am, and trempling of mind! I shall be
glad if he have deceived me. How melancholies
I am! I will knog his urinals about
his knave's costard when I have good opportunities
for the ork. 'Pless my soul!
[Sings.

To shallow rivers, to whose falls

Melodious birds sings madrigals;

There will we make our peds of roses, (20)

And a thousand fragrant posies.

To shallow--

Mercy on me! I have a great dispositions to
cry. [Sings.

Melodious birds sing madrigals--

When as I sat in Pabylon--

And a thousand vagram posies.

To shallow, &c.
Re-enter SIMPLE.


Sim.
Yonder he is coming, this way, Sir
Hugh. (29)

Evans.
He's welcome.
[Sings.

To shallow rivers, to whose falls--

Heaven prosper the right! What weapons is he?

Sim.
No weapons, sir. There comes my
master, Master Shallow, and another gentle-
man, from Frogmore, over the stile, this way.

Evans.
Pray you, give me my gown; or
else keep it in your arms.
Enter PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER.

Shal.
How now, master Parson! Good
morrow, good Sir Hugh. Keep a gamester
from the dice, and a good student from his
book, and it is wonderful. (40)

Slen.
[Aside] Ah, sweet Anne Page!

Page.
'Save you, good Sir Hugh!

Evans.
'Pless you from his mercy sake, all
of you

Shal.
What, the sword and the word! do
you study them both, master parson?

Page.
And youthful still! in your doublet
and hose this raw rheumatic day!

Evans.
There is reasons and causes for it.

Page.
We are come to you to do a good (50)
office, master parson.

Evans.
Fery well: what is it?

Page.
Yonder is a most reverend gentleman,
who, belike having received wrong by
some person, is at most odds with his own
gravity and patience that ever you saw.

Shal.
I have lived fourscore years and upward;
I never heard a man of his place, gravity
and learning, so wide of his own respect.

Evans.
What is he?

Page.
I think you know him; Master Doctor
Caius, the renowned French physician. 61

Evans.
Got's will, and his passion of my
heart! I had as lief you would tell me of a
mess of porridge.

Page.
Why?

Evans.
He has no more knowledge in Hibocrates
and Galen, and he is a knave besides;
a cowardly knave as you would desires
to be acquainted withal.

Page.
I warrant you, he's the man should (71)
fight with him.

Slen.
[Aside] O sweet Anne Page!

Shal.
It appears so by his weapons. Keep
them asunder; here comes Doctor Caius. Enter HOST, CAIUS and RUGBY.

Page.
Nay, good master parson, keep in
your weapon.

Shal.
So do you, good master doctor.

Host.
Disarm them, and let them question:
let them keep their limbs whole and hack our (80)
English.

Caius.
I pray you, let-a me speak a word
with your ear. Vherefore vill you not meet-
a me?

Evans.
[Aside to Caius] Pray you, use
your patience: in good time.

Caius.
By gar, you are de coward, de Jack
dog, John ape.

Evans.
[Aside to Caius]
Pray you, let us
not be laughing-stocks to other men's humours;
I desire you in friendship and will one way
or other make you amends. [Aloud] I will
knog your urinals about your knave's cogs-
comb for missing your meetings and appointments.

Caius.
Diable! Jack Rugby,--mine host
de Jarteer,--have I not stay for him to kill
him? have I not, at de place I did appoint?

Evans.
As I am a Christians soul now,
look you, this is the place appointed: I'll be
judgement by mine host of the Garter.

Host.
Peace, I say, Gallia and Gaul,

French and Welsh, soul-curer and body-curer!

Caius.
Ay, dat is very good; excellent.

Host.
Peace, I say! hear mine host of the
Garter. Am I politic? am I subtle? am I
a Machiavel? Shall I lose my doctor? no;
he gives me the potions and the motions.
Shall I lose my parson, my priest, my Sir
Hugh? no: he gives me the proverbs and the
no-verbs. Give me thy hand, terrestrial; so.
Give me thy hand, celestial; so. Boys of art,
I have deceived you both; I have directed you
to wrong places: your hearts are mighty, your
skins are whole, and let burnt sack be the issue.
Come, lay their swords to pawn. Follow
me, lads of peace; follow, follow, follow.

Shal.
Trust me, a mad host. Follow, gentlemen,
follow.

Slen.
[Aside]

O sweet Anne Page!
Exeunt Shal., Slen., Page, and Host.


Caius.
Ha, do I perceive dat? have you (119)
make-a de sot of us, ha, ha?

Evans.
This is well; he has made us his
vlouting-stog. I desire you that we may be
friends; and let us knog our prains together
to be revenge on this same scall, scurvy, cogging
companion, the host of the Garter.

Caius.
By gar, with all my heart. He
promise to bring me where is Anne Page; by
gar, he deceive me too.

Evans.
Well, I will smite his noddles.
Pray you, follow.
[Exeunt.

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