Master Broom,

thou shalt know I will predominate248 over the peasant, and

thou shalt lie with his wife. Come to me soon at night. Ford’s

a knave, and I will aggravate his style250. Thou, Master Broom,

shalt know him for knave and cuckold. Come to me soon at

night.

[Exit]

FORD    What a damned Epicurean253 rascal is this? My heart is

ready to crack with impatience. Who says this is improvident254

jealousy? My wife hath sent to him, the hour is fixed, the

match is made. Would any man have thought this? See the

hell of having a false257 woman: my bed shall be abused, my

coffers ransacked, my reputation gnawn at, and I shall not

only receive this villainous wrong, but stand under the259

adoption of abominable terms, and by him that does me this

wrong. Terms, names! Amaimon sounds well: Lucifer, well:261

Barbason, well: yet they are devils’ additions262, the names of

fiends. But Cuckold? Wittol? Cuckold? The devil himself hath

not such a name. Page is an ass, a secure264 ass. He will trust his

wife, he will not be jealous. I will rather trust a Fleming265 with

my butter, Parson Hugh the Welshman with my cheese, an

Irishman with my aqua-vitae bottle, or a thief to walk267 my

ambling gelding268, than my wife with herself. Then she plots,

then she ruminates, then she devises: and what they think in

their hearts they may effect — they will break their hearts

but they will effect. Heaven be praised for my jealousy!

Eleven o’clock the hour. I will prevent this, detect my wife, be

revenged on Falstaff, and laugh at Page. I will about it. Better

three hours too soon than a minute too late. Fie, fie, fie!

Cuckold, cuckold, cuckold!

Exit

Act 2 Scene 3

running scene 7

Enter Caius and Rugby

CAIUS    Jack Rugby!

RUGBY    Sir?

CAIUS    Vat is the clock, Jack?

RUGBY    ’Tis past the hour, sir, that Sir Hugh promised to

meet.

CAIUS    By gar, he has save his soul, dat he is no come. He

has pray his Pible well, dat he is no come. By gar, Jack Rugby,

he is dead already, if he be come.

RUGBY    He is wise, sir. He knew your worship would kill

him, if he came.

CAIUS    By gar, de herring is no dead, so as11 I vill kill

Draws

him. Take your rapier, Jack. I vill tell you how I vill kill him.

RUGBY    Alas, sir, I cannot fence.

CAIUS    Villainy14, take your rapier.

RUGBY    Forbear. Here’s company.

Caius sheathes his sword

[Enter Host, Shallow, Slender and Page]

HOST Bless thee, bully doctor.

SHALLOW    ’Save17 you, Master Doctor Caius.

PAGE    Now, good master doctor.

SLENDER Give you good morrow, sir.

CAIUS    Vat be all you, one, two, tree, four, come for?

HOST    To see thee fight, to see thee foin, to see thee traverse21,

to see thee here, to see thee there, to see thee pass thy punto,22

thy stock, thy reverse, thy distance, thy montant23. Is he dead,

my Ethiopian? Is he dead, my Francisco24? Ha, bully! What says

my Aesculapius, my Galen, my heart of elder25? Ha? Is he dead,

bully stale26? Is he dead?

CAIUS    By gar, he is de coward Jack-priest of de vorld. He is

not show his face.

HOST    Thou art a Castalion king-urinal. Hector of Greece29,

my boy!

CAIUS    I pray you bear witness that me have stay, six or

seven, two, tree hours for him, and he is no come.

SHALLOW    He is the wiser man, Master Doctor: he is a curer of

souls, and you a curer of bodies. If you should fight, you go

against the hair35 of your professions. Is it not true, Master

Page?

PAGE    Master Shallow, you have yourself been a great

fighter, though now a man of peace.

SHALLOW    Bodykins39, Master Page, though I now be old and of

the peace, if I see a sword out, my finger itches to make one40.

Though we are justices and doctors and churchmen, Master

Page, we have some salt42 of our youth in us. We are the sons

of women, Master Page.

PAGE    ’Tis true, Master Shallow.

SHALLOW    It will be found so, Master Page.— Master Doctor

Caius, I am come to fetch you home.