| ACT V SCENE V | Another part of the Park. | |
| | Enter FALSTAFF disguised as Herne | |
| FALSTAFF | The Windsor bell hath struck twelve; the minute | |
| | draws on. Now, the hot-blooded gods assist me! | |
| | Remember, Jove, thou wast a bull for thy Europa; love | |
| | set on thy horns. O powerful love! that, in some | 5 |
| | respects, makes a beast a man, in some other, a man | |
| | a beast. You were also, Jupiter, a swan for the love | |
| | of Leda. O omnipotent Love! how near the god drew | |
| | to the complexion of a goose! A fault done first in | |
| | the form of a beast. O Jove, a beastly fault! And | 10 |
| | then another fault in the semblance of a fowl; think | |
| | on 't, Jove; a foul fault! When gods have hot | |
| | backs, what shall poor men do? For me, I am here a | |
| | Windsor stag; and the fattest, I think, i' the | |
| | forest. Send me a cool rut-time, Jove, or who can | 15 |
| | blame me to piss my tallow? Who comes here? my | |
| | doe? | |
| | Enter MISTRESS FORD and MISTRESS PAGE | |
| MISTRESS FORD | Sir John! art thou there, my deer? my male deer? | |
| FALSTAFF | My doe with the black scut! Let the sky rain | |
| | potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of Green | 20 |
| | Sleeves, hail kissing-comfits and snow eringoes; let | |
| | there come a tempest of provocation, I will shelter me here. | |
| MISTRESS FORD | Mistress Page is come with me, sweetheart. | |
| FALSTAFF | Divide me like a bribe buck, each a haunch: I will | |
| | keep my sides to myself, my shoulders for the fellow | 25 |
| | 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 conscience; he makes | |
| | restitution. As I am a true spirit, welcome! | |
| | Noise within | |
| MISTRESS PAGE | Alas, what noise? | 30 |
| MISTRESS FORD | Heaven forgive our sins | |
| FALSTAFF | What should this be? | |
| MISTRESS FORD | | | |
| | | Away, away! | |
| MISTRESS PAGE | | | 35 |
| | They run off | |
| FALSTAFF | I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the | |
| | oil that's in me should set hell on fire; he would | |
| | never else cross me thus. | |
| | Enter SIR HUGH EVANS, disguised as before; PISTOL,as Hobgoblin; MISTRESS QUICKLY, ANNE PAGE, andothers, as Fairies, with tapers | |
| MISTRESS QUICKLY | Fairies, black, grey, green, and white, | |
| | You moonshine revellers and shades of night, | 40 |
| | You orphan heirs of fixed destiny, | |
| | Attend your office and your quality. | |
| | Crier Hobgoblin, make the fairy oyes. | |
| PISTOL | Elves, list your names; silence, you airy toys. | |
| | Cricket, to Windsor chimneys shalt thou leap: | 45 |
| | Where fires thou find'st unraked and hearths unswept, | |
| | There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry: | |
| | Our radiant queen hates sluts and sluttery. | |
| FALSTAFF | They are fairies; he that speaks to them shall die: | |
| | I'll wink and couch: no man their works must eye. | 50 |
| | Lies down upon his face | |
| SIR HUGH EVANS | Where's Bede? Go you, and where you find a maid | |
| | That, ere she sleep, has thrice her prayers said, | |
| | Raise up the organs of her fantasy; | |
| | Sleep she as sound as careless infancy: | |
| | But those as sleep and think not on their sins, | 55 |
| | Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides and shins. | |
| MISTRESS QUICKLY | About, about; | |
| | Search Windsor Castle, elves, within and out: | |
| | Strew good luck, ouphes, on every sacred room: | |
| | That it may stand till the perpetual doom, | 60 |
| | In state as wholesome as in state 'tis fit, | |
| | Worthy the owner, and the owner it. | |
| | The several chairs of order look you scour | |
| | With juice of balm and every precious flower: | |
| | Each fair instalment, coat, and several crest, | 65 |
| | With loyal blazon, evermore be blest! | |
| | And nightly, meadow-fairies, look you sing, | |
| | Like to the Garter's compass, in a ring: | |
| | The expressure that it bears, green let it be, | |
| | More fertile-fresh than all the field to see; | 70 |
| | And 'Honi soit qui mal y pense' write | |
| | In emerald tufts, flowers purple, blue and white; | |
| | Let sapphire, pearl and rich embroidery, | |
| | Buckled below fair knighthood's bending knee: | |
| | Fairies use flowers for their charactery. | 75 |
| | Away; disperse: but till 'tis one o'clock, | |
| | Our dance of custom round about the oak | |
| | Of Herne the hunter, let us not forget. | |
| SIR HUGH EVANS | Pray you, lock hand in hand; yourselves in order set | |
| | And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be, | 80 |
| | To guide our measure round about the tree. | |
| | But, stay; I smell a man of middle-earth. | |
| FALSTAFF | Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy, lest he | |
| | transform me to a piece of cheese! | |
| PISTOL | Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth. | 85 |
| MISTRESS QUICKLY | With trial-fire touch me his finger-end: | |
| | If he be chaste, the flame will back descend | |
| | And turn him to no pain; but if he start, | |
| | It is the flesh of a corrupted heart. | |
| PISTOL | A trial, come. | 90 |
| SIR HUGH EVANS | Come, will this wood take fire? | |
| | They burn him with their tapers | |
| FALSTAFF | Oh, Oh, Oh! | |
| MISTRESS QUICKLY | Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire! | |
| | About him, fairies; sing a scornful rhyme; | |
| | And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time. | 95 |
| | | |
| | SONG. | |
| | Fie on sinful fantasy! | |
| | Fie on lust and luxury! | |
| | Lust is but a bloody fire, | 100 |
| | Kindled with unchaste desire, | |
| | Fed in heart, whose flames aspire | |
| | As thoughts do blow them, higher and higher. | |
| | Pinch him, fairies, mutually; | |
| | Pinch him for his villany; | 105 |
| | Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about, | |
| | Till candles and starlight and moonshine be out. | |
| | During this song they pinch FALSTAFF. DOCTOR CAIUScomes one way, and steals away a boy in green;SLENDER another way, and takes off a boy in white;and FENTON comes and steals away ANN PAGE.A noise of hunting is heard within. All theFairies run away. FALSTA | |
| | Enter PAGE, FORD, MISTRESS PAGE, and MISTRESS FORD | |
| PAGE | Nay, do not fly; I think we have watch'd you now | |
| | Will none but Herne the hunter serve your turn? | |
| MISTRESS PAGE | I pray you, come, hold up the jest no higher | 110 |
| | Now, good Sir John, how like you Windsor wives? | |
| | See you these, husband? do not these fair yokes | |
| | Become the forest better than the town? | |
| FORD | Now, sir, who's a cuckold now? Master Brook, | |
| | Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldly knave; here are his | 115 |
| | horns, Master Brook: and, Master Brook, he hath | |
| | enjoyed nothing of Ford's but his buck-basket, his | |
| | cudgel, and twenty pounds of money, which must be | |
| | paid to Master Brook; his horses are arrested for | |
| | it, Master Brook. | 120 |
| MISTRESS 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. | |
| FALSTAFF | I do begin to perceive that I am made an ass. | |
| FORD | Ay, and an ox too: both the proofs are extant. | 125 |
| FALSTAFF | And these are not fairies? I was three or four | |
| | times in the thought they were not fairies: and yet | |
| | the guiltiness of my mind, the sudden surprise of my | |
| | powers, drove the grossness of the foppery into a | |
| | received belief, in despite of the teeth of all | 130 |
| | rhyme and reason, that they were fairies. See now | |
| | how wit may be made a Jack-a-Lent, when 'tis upon | |
| | ill employment! | |
| SIR HUGH EVANS | Sir John Falstaff, serve Got, and leave your | |
| | desires, and fairies will not pinse you. | 135 |
| FORD | Well said, fairy Hugh. | |
| SIR HUGH EVANS | And leave your jealousies too, I pray you. | |
| FORD | I will never mistrust my wife again till thou art | |
| | able to woo her in good English. | |
| FALSTAFF | Have I laid my brain in the sun and dried it, that | 140 |
| | it wants matter to prevent so gross o'erreaching as | |
| | this? Am I ridden with a Welsh goat too? shall I | |
| | have a coxcomb of frize? 'Tis time I were choked | |
| | with a piece of toasted cheese. | |
| SIR HUGH EVANS | Seese is not good to give putter; your belly is all putter. | 145 |
| FALSTAFF | 'Seese' and 'putter'! have I lived to stand at the | |
| | taunt of one that makes fritters of English? This | |
| | is enough to be the decay of lust and late-walking | |
| | through the realm. | |
| MISTRESS PAGE | Why Sir John, do you think, though we would have the | 150 |
| | virtue out of our hearts by the head and shoulders | |
| | and have given ourselves without scruple to hell, | |
| | that ever the devil could have made you our delight? | |
| FORD | What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax? | |
| MISTRESS PAGE | A puffed man? | 155 |
| PAGE | Old, cold, withered and of intolerable entrails? | |
| FORD | And one that is as slanderous as Satan? | |
| PAGE | And as poor as Job? | |
| FORD | And as wicked as his wife? | |
| SIR HUGH EVANS | And given to fornications, and to taverns and sack | 160 |
| | and wine and metheglins, and to drinkings and | |
| | swearings and starings, pribbles and prabbles? | |
| FALSTAFF | Well, I am your theme: you have the start of me; I | |
| | am dejected; I am not able to answer the Welsh | |
| | flannel; ignorance itself is a plummet o'er me: use | 165 |
| | me as you will. | |
| FORD | Marry, sir, we'll bring you to Windsor, to one | |
| | Master Brook, that you have cozened of money, to | |
| | whom you should have been a pander: over and above | |
| | that you have suffered, I think to repay that money | 170 |
| | will be a biting affliction. | |
| PAGE | Yet be cheerful, knight: thou shalt eat a posset | |
| | to-night at my house; where I will desire thee to | |
| | laugh at my wife, that now laughs at thee: tell her | |
| | Master Slender hath married her daughter. | 175 |
| MISTRESS PAGE | Aside | |
| | daughter, she is, by this, Doctor Caius' wife. | |
| | Enter SLENDER | |
| SLENDER | Whoa ho! ho, father Page! | |
| PAGE | Son, how now! how now, son! have you dispatched? | |
| SLENDER | Dispatched! I'll make the best in Gloucestershire | |
| | know on't; would I were hanged, la, else. | 180 |
| PAGE | Of what, son? | |
| SLENDER | I came yonder at Eton to marry Mistress Anne Page, | |
| | and she's a great lubberly boy. If it had not been | |
| | i' the church, I would have swinged him, or he | |
| | should have swinged me. If I did not think it had | 185 |
| | been Anne Page, would I might never stir!--and 'tis | |
| | a postmaster's boy. | |
| PAGE | Upon my life, then, you took the wrong. | |
| SLENDER | What need you tell me that? I think so, when I took | |
| | a boy for a girl. If I had been married to him, for | 190 |
| | all he was in woman's apparel, I would not have had | |
| | him. | |
| PAGE | Why, this is your own folly. Did not I tell you how | |
| | you should know my daughter by her garments? | |
| SLENDER | I went to her in white, and cried 'mum,' and she | 195 |
| | cried 'budget,' as Anne and I had appointed; and yet | |
| | it was not Anne, but a postmaster's boy. | |
| MISTRESS PAGE | Good George, be not angry: I knew of your purpose; | |
| | turned my daughter into green; and, indeed, she is | |
| | now with the doctor at the deanery, and there married. | 200 |
| | Enter DOCTOR CAIUS | |
| DOCTOR CAIUS | Vere is Mistress Page? By gar, I am cozened: I ha' | |
| | married un garcon, a boy; un paysan, by gar, a boy; | |
| | it is not Anne Page: by gar, I am cozened. | |
| MISTRESS PAGE | Why, did you take her in green? | |
| DOCTOR CAIUS | Ay, by gar, and 'tis a boy: by gar, I'll raise all Windsor. | 205 |
| | Exit | |
| FORD | This is strange. Who hath got the right Anne? | |
| PAGE | My heart misgives me: here comes Master Fenton. | |
| | Enter FENTON and ANNE PAGE | |
| | How now, Master Fenton! | |
| ANNE PAGE | Pardon, good father! good my mother, pardon! | |
| PAGE | Now, mistress, how chance you went not with Master Slender? | 210 |
| MISTRESS PAGE | Why went you not with master doctor, maid? | |
| FENTON | You do amaze her: hear the truth of it. | |
| | You would have married her most shamefully, | |
| | Where there was no proportion held in love. | |
| | The truth is, she and I, long since contracted, | 215 |
| | Are now so sure that nothing can dissolve us. | |
| | The offence is holy that she hath committed; | |
| | And this deceit loses the name of craft, | |
| | Of disobedience, or unduteous title, | |
| | Since therein she doth evitate and shun | 220 |
| | A thousand irreligious cursed hours, | |
| | Which forced marriage would have brought upon her. | |
| FORD | Stand not amazed; here is no remedy: | |
| | In love the heavens themselves do guide the state; | |
| | Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate. | 225 |
| FALSTAFF | I am glad, though you have ta'en a special stand to | |
| | strike at me, that your arrow hath glanced. | |
| PAGE | Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven give thee joy! | |
| | What cannot be eschew'd must be embraced. | |
| FALSTAFF | When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer are chased. | 230 |
| MISTRESS PAGE | Well, I will muse no further. Master Fenton, | |
| | Heaven give you many, many merry days! | |
| | Good husband, let us every one go home, | |
| | And laugh this sport o'er by a country fire; | |
| | Sir John and all. | 235 |
| FORD | Let it be so. Sir John, | |
| | To Master Brook you yet shall hold your word | |
| | For he tonight shall lie with Mistress Ford. | |
| | Exeunt | |