Part 27

Page. How? to send him word they'll meete him in the Parke at midnight? Fie, fie, he'll neuer come

Eu. You say he has bin throwne in the Riuers: and has bin greeuously peaten, as an old o'man: me-thinkes there should be terrors in him, that he should not come: Me-thinkes his flesh is punish'd, hee shall haue no desires

Page. So thinke I too

M.Ford. Deuise but how you'l vse him whe he comes, And let vs two deuise to bring him thether

Mis.Page. There is an old tale goes, that Herne the Hunter (sometime a keeper heere in Windsor Forrest) Doth all the winter time, at still midnight Walke round about an Oake, with great rag'd-hornes, And there he blasts the tree, and takes the cattle, And make milch-kine yeeld blood, and shakes a chaine In a most hideous and dreadfull manner. You haue heard of such a Spirit, and well you know The superstitious idle-headed-Eld Receiu'd, and did deliuer to our age This tale of Herne the Hunter, for a truth

Page. Why yet there want not many that do feare In deepe of night to walke by this Hernes Oake: But what of this? Mist.Ford. Marry this is our deuise, That Falstaffe at that Oake shall meete with vs

Page. Well, let it not be doubted but he'll come, And in this shape, when you haue brought him thether, What shall be done with him? What is your plot? Mist.Pa. That likewise haue we thoght vpon: & thus: Nan Page (my daughter) and my little sonne, And three or foure more of their growth, wee'l dresse Like Vrchins, Ouphes, and Fairies, greene and white, With rounds of waxen Tapers on their heads, And rattles in their hands; vpon a sodaine, As Falstaffe, she, and I, are newly met, Let them from forth a saw-pit rush at once With some diffused song: Vpon their sight We two, in great amazednesse will flye: Then let them all encircle him about, And Fairy-like to pinch the vncleane Knight; And aske him why that houre of Fairy Reuell, In their so sacred pathes, he dares to tread In shape prophane

Ford. And till he tell the truth, Let the supposed Fairies pinch him, sound, And burne him with their Tapers

Mist.Page. The truth being knowne, We'll all present our selues; dis-horne the spirit, And mocke him home to Windsor

Ford. The children must Be practis'd well to this, or they'll neu'r doo't

Eua. I will teach the children their behauiours: and I will be like a Iacke-an-Apes also, to burne the Knight with my Taber

Ford. That will be excellent, Ile go buy them vizards

Mist.Page. My Nan shall be the Queene of all the Fairies, finely attired in a robe of white

Page. That silke will I go buy, and in that time Shall M[aster]. Slender steale my Nan away, And marry her at Eaton: go, send to Falstaffe straight

Ford. Nay, Ile to him againe in name of Broome, Hee'l tell me all his purpose: sure hee'l come

Mist.Page. Feare not you that: Go get vs properties And tricking for our Fayries

Euans. Let vs about it, It is admirable pleasures, and ferry honest knaueries

Mis.Page. Go Mist. Ford, Send quickly to Sir Iohn, to know his minde: Ile to the Doctor, he hath my good will, And none but he to marry with Nan Page: That Slender (though well landed) is an Ideot: And he, my husband best of all affects: The Doctor is well monied, and his friends Potent at Court: he, none but he shall haue her, Though twenty thousand worthier come to craue her.

Scena Quinta.

Enter Host, Simple, Falstaffe, Bardolfe, Euans, Caius, Quickly.

Host. What wouldst thou haue? (Boore) what? (thick skin) speake, breathe, discusse: breefe, short, quicke, snap

Simp. Marry Sir, I come to speake with Sir Iohn Falstaffe from M[aster]. Slender

Host. There's his Chamber, his House, his Castle, his standing-bed and truckle-bed: 'tis painted about with the story of the Prodigall, fresh and new: go, knock and call: hee'l speake like an Anthropophaginian vnto thee: Knocke I say

Simp. There's an olde woman, a fat woman gone vp into his chamber: Ile be so bold as stay Sir till she come downe: I come to speake with her indeed

Host. Ha? A fat woman? The Knight may be robb'd: Ile call. Bully-Knight, Bully Sir Iohn: speake from thy Lungs Military: Art thou there? It is thine Host, thine Ephesian cals

Fal. How now, mine Host? Host. Here's a Bohemian-Tartar taries the comming downe of thy fat-woman: Let her descend (Bully) let her descend: my Chambers are honourable: Fie, priuacy? Fie

Fal. There was (mine Host) an old-fat-woman euen now with me, but she's gone

Simp. Pray you Sir, was't not the Wise-woman of Brainford? Fal. I marry was it (Mussel-shell) what would you with her? Simp. My Master (Sir) my master Slender, sent to her seeing her go thorough the streets, to know (Sir) whether one Nim (Sir) that beguil'd him of a chaine, had the chaine, or no