Caius. I know vat I have to do; adieu.

[Exit. Mrs. Page. Fare you well, Sir. My husband will not rejoice fo much at the abufe of Falstaff, as he will chafe at the Doctor's marrying my daughter: but 'tis no matter; better a little chiding, than a great deal of heartbreak.

Mrs. Ford. Where is Nan now, and her troop of fairies, and the Welch devil' 'Evans?`

Mrs. Page. They are all couch'd in a pit hard by Herne's Oak, with obfcur'd lights; which at the very inftant of Falstaff's and our meeting they will at once difplay to the night.

Mrs. Ford. That cannot chufe but amaze him.

Mrs. Page. If he be not amaz'd he will be mock'd; if he be amaz'd he will be mock'd.

Mrs. Ford. We'll betray him finely.

Mrs. Page. Against fuch lewdfters, and their leachery, Those that betray them do no treachery.

Mrs. Ford. The hour draws on; to the Oak, to the Oak,

Enter Evans and Fairies.

[Exeunt.

Eva. Trib, trib, fairies; come and remember your parts: be pold, I pray you, follow me into the pit, and when I give the watch-'ords do as I pid you: come, come; trib, trib. [Exeunt.

Enter Falstaff, with a Buck's head on.

Fal. The Windfor bell hath ftruck twelve, the minute draws on; now the hot-blooded gods affift me! Remember, Jove, thou waft a bull for thy Europa; love fet on thy horns. Oh powerful love! that in fome respects makes a beast a man; in fome other, a man a beast. You were alfo, Jupiter, a fwan, for the love of Leda: oh omnipotent love! how near the god drew to the complexion

3 Herne?

old edit. Theob. emend.

plexion of a goofe! A fault done first in the form of a beaft, O Jove, a beaftly fault; and then another fault in the femblance of a fowl; think on't, Jove, a foul fault. When gods have hot backs, what fhall poor men do? for me, I am here a Windfor ftag, and the fattest, I think, i' th' foreft. Send me a cool rut-time, Jove, or who can blame me to pifs my tallow? who comes here? my doe?

Enter Mistress Ford and Miftrefs Page.

Mrs. Ford. Sir John? art thou there, my deer? my male-deer?

Fal. My doe with the black fcut? let the sky rain potatoes, let it thunder to the tune of Green-Sleeves, hail kiffing-comfits, and fnow eringoes; let there come a tempeft of provocation, I will fhelter me here.

Mrs. Ford. Miftrefs Page is come with me, sweet

heart.

Fal. Divide me like a 'bribe-buck, each a haunch; I will keep my fides to my felf, my fhoulders for the fellow of this walk, and my horns I bequeath your husbands. Am I a woodman, ha? Speak I like Herne the hunter? why, now is Cupid a child of confcience, he makes reftitution. As I am a true fpirit, welcome.

Mrs. Page. Alas! what noife?
Mrs. Ford. Heav'n forgive our fins!
Fal. What fhould this be?

Mrs. Ford. Mrs. Page. Away, away.

[Noife within.

[The women run out.

would

Fal. I think the devil will not have me damn'd, left the oil that is in me fhould fet hell on fire; he never else cross me thus.

4 brib'd-buck, ... old edit. Theob. emend.

5 never would

VOL. I.

U

SCENE

Enter Sir Hugh dreft like a Satyr, Quickly and others like Fairies, with tapers.

Quic. Fairies, black, gray, green, and white,
You moon-fhine revellers, and fhades of night,
You ''ouphen-heirs of fixed destiny,
Attend your office, and your quality.
Crier hobgoblin, make the fairy o-yes.

Eva. Elves, lift your names; filence, you airy toys.

[To be fpoken with a Welch accent.

Cricket, to Windfor chimneys fhalt thou leap

Where fires thou find'st unrak'd, and hearths unfwept,
There pinch the maids as blew as bilbery.
Our radiant Queen hates fluts and fluttery.

Fal. They're fairies, he that speaks to them fhall die. I'll wink and couch; no man their works muft eye.

[Lyes down upon his Face.

Eva. Where's Bede? go you, and where you find a [With a Welch accent.

maid

That ere she sleep hath thrice her prayers said,

'Rein' up the organs of her fantafie,

Sleep fhe as found as careless infancy!

But those that sleep and think not on their fins,

Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, fhoulders, fides and shins. Quic. About, about;

Search Windfor castle, elves, within and out.

Strew good luck, ouphes, on every facred room,
That it may ftand 'till the perpetual doom,
In 'fite as wholfome, as in ftate 'tis fit;
Worthy the owner, 'as the owner it.
The several chairs of Order look you scour
With juice of balm and ev'ry precious flow'r ;
Each fair inftalment, coat and fev'ral creft,

With loyal blazon evermore be bleft!
And nightly-meadow-fairies, look you fing,
Like to the Garter-compafs, in a ring:
Th' expreffure that it bears, green let it be,
More fertile fresh than all the field to fee;
And, Hony Soit Qui Mal-y-Penfe write,
In emrold-tuffs, flow'rs purple, blue and white,
Like faphire-pearl, and rich embroidery,
Buckled below fair Knight-hood's bending knee;
Fairies ufe flow'rs for their charactery.
Away, difperfe; but 'till 'tis one a clock
Our dance of cuftom round about the Oak
Of Herne the hunter let us not forget.

Eva. Lock hand in hand, your felves in order fet:

}

[With a Welch accent.

And twenty glow-worms fhall our lanthorns be
To guide our measure round about the tree.
But stay, I fmell a man of middle earth.

Fal. Heav'ns defend me from that Welch fairy, left he transform me to a piece of cheese!

I

[birth.

Eva. 'Vile worm, thou waft o'er-look'd even in thy Quick. With tryal-fire touch me his finger end;

If he be chafte, the flame will back defcend

And turn him to no pain; but if he start,
It is the flesh of a corrupted heart.

Eva. A tryal, come.

[They burn him with their tapers, and pinch him:

Come, will this wood take fire?

Fal. Oh, oh, oh!

Quic. Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in defire; About him, fairies, fing a fcornful rhime.

And as you trip, ftill pinch him to your time.

The

SONG.

Fie on fimple phantafie:
Fie on luft and luxury :

U 2

Lust

i Vild

Luft is but 'i' th' blood` a fire,
Kindled with unchafte defire,

3 Fed in the heart, whofe flames afpire,
As thoughts do blow them higher and higher.
Pinch him, fairies, mutually;

Pinch him for his villainy ;

Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about,

'Till candles, and star-light, and moon-fhine be out.

SCENE

[He offers to run out.

V.

Enter Page, Ford, &c. They lay hold on him.
Page. Nay, do not fly, I think I've watcht you now;
Will none but Herne the hunter ferve your turn?

Mrs. Page. I pray you, come, hold up the jeft no higher.
Now, good Sir John, how like you Windfor wives?
See you these, husbands? do not these fair Oaks

[Pointing to the horns. Become the foreft better than the town?

Ford. Now, Sir, who's a cuckold now? mafter Brook, Falfiaff's a knave, a cuckoldy knave, here are his horns, mafter Brook; and, mafter Brock, he hath enjoy'd nothing of Ford's but his buck-basket, his cudgel, and twenty pounds of mony, which must be paid to master Brook; his horfes are arrefted for it, mafter Brook.

Mrs. Ford. Sir John, we have had ill luck; we could never meet. I will never take you for my love again, but I will always count you my deer.

Fal. I do begin to perceive that I am made an afs.

Ford. Ay, and an ox too: both the proofs are extant. Fal. And thefe are not fairies: I was three or four times in the thought they were not fairies, and yet the guiltiness of my mind, with the fudden furprize of my powers, drove the groffnefs of the foppery into a receiv'd belief, in defpight of the teeth of all rhime and reafon, that they

z a bloody 3 Fed in heart,
4 the fudden furprize

were