William Shakespeare (1564–1616). The Oxford Shakespeare. 1914.
The Merry Wives of Windsor
Act III. Scene II.
A Street in Windsor.
Enter MISTRESS PAGE and ROBIN.
Mrs. Page. Nay, keep your way, little gallant: you were wont to be a follower, but now you are a leader. Whether had you rather lead mine eyes, or eye your master’s heels?
Rob. I had rather, forsooth, go before you like a man than follow him like a dwarf.
Mrs. Page. O! you are a flattering boy: now I see you’ll be a courtier.
Mrs. Page. By your leave, sir: I am sick till I see her. [Exeunt MISTRESS PAGE and ROBIN.
Ford. Has Page any brains? hath he any eyes? hath he any thinking? Sure, they sleep; he hath no use of them. Why, this boy will carry a letter twenty mile, as easy as a cannon will shoot point-blank twelve score. He pieces out his wife’s inclination; he gives her folly motion and advantage: and now she’s going to my wife, and Falstaff’s boy with her. A man may hear this shower sing in the wind: and Falstaff’s boy with her! Good plots! they are laid; and our revolted wives share damnation together. Well; I will take him, then torture my wife, pluck the borrowed veil of modesty from the so seeming Mistress Page, divulge Page himself for a secure and wilful Actæon; and to these violent proceedings all my neighbours shall cry aim. [Clock strikes.] The clock gives me my cue, and my assurance bids me search; there I shall find Falstaff. I shall be rather praised for this than mocked; for it is as positive as the earth is firm, that Falstaff is there: I will go.
Enter PAGE, SHALLOW, SLENDER, Host, SIR HUGH EVANS, CAIUS, and RUGBY.
Page. You have, Master Slender; I stand wholly for you: but my wife, Master doctor, is for you altogether.
Caius. Ay, by gar; and de maid is love-a me: my nursh-a Quickly tell me so mush.
Host. What say you to young Master Fenton? he capers, he dances, he has eyes of youth, he writes verses, he speaks holiday, he smells April and May: he will carry ’t, he will carry ’t; ’tis in his buttons; he will carry ’t.
Page. Not by my consent, I promise you. The gentleman is of no having: he kept company with the wild prince and Pointz; he is of too high a region; he knows too much. No, he shall not knit a knot in his fortunes with the finger of my substance: if he take her, let him take her simply; the wealth I have waits on my consent, and my consent goes not that way.
Ford. I beseech you heartily, some of you go home with me to dinner: besides your cheer, you shall have sport; I will show you a monster. Master doctor, you shall go; so shall you, Master Page; and you, Sir Hugh.
