Enter Evans and Simple
I pray you now, good Master Slender's servingman,
and friend Simple by your name, which way have
you looked for Master Caius, that calls himself Doctor
Marry, sir, the pittie-ward, the park-ward,
every way; Old Windsor way, and every way but the
I most fehemently desire you you will also look
I will, sir.
Pless my soul, how full of chollors I am, and
trempling of mind! I shall be glad if he have deceived
me. How melancholies I am! I will knog his urinals
about his knave's costard when I have good opportunities
for the 'ork. Pless my soul!
To shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sings madrigals.
There will we make our peds of roses,
And a thousand fragrant posies.
To shallow –
Mercy on me! I have a great dispositions to cry.
Melodious birds sing madrigals –
Whenas I sat in Pabylon –
And a thousand vagram posies.
malapropism for ‘vagrant’; or: mispronunciation of ‘fragrant’
To shallow, etc.
Yonder he is, coming this way, Sir Hugh.
To shallow rivers, to whose falls –
Heaven prosper the right! What weapons is he?
No weapons, sir. There comes my master, Master
Shallow, and another gentleman, from Frogmore, over
the stile, this way.
Pray you, give me my gown – or else keep it in
He takes a book and reads it
Enter Page, Shallow, and Slender
How now, Master Parson? Good morrow, good
Sir Hugh. Keep a gamester from the dice, and a good
student from his book, and it is wonderful.
Ah, sweet Anne Page!
Save you, good Sir Hugh!
Pless you from his mercy sake, all of you!
What, the sword and the word? Do you study
them both, Master Parson?
And youthful still – in your doublet and hose this
raw rheumatic day?
There is reasons and causes for it.
We are come to you to do a good office, Master
Fery well. What is it?
Yonder is a most reverend gentleman, who, belike,
having received wrong by some person, is at most odds
with his own gravity and patience that ever you saw.
I have lived fourscore years and upward. I
never heard a man of his place, gravity, and learning so
wide of his own respect.
What is he?
I think you know him: Master Doctor Caius, the
renowned French physician.
Got's will and his passion of my heart! I had as
lief you would tell me of a mess of porridge.
He has no more knowledge in Hibocrates and
Galen – and he is a knave besides, a cowardly knave as
you would desires to be acquainted withal.
I warrant you, he's the man should fight with him.
O sweet Anne Page!
It appears so by his weapons.
Enter Host, Caius, and Rugby
Keep them asunder; here comes Doctor Caius.
Evans and Caius offer to fight
Nay, good master Parson, keep in your weapon.
So do you, good Master Doctor.
Disarm them, and let them question. Let them keep
their limbs whole and hack our English.
I pray you let-a me speak a word with your ear.
Verefore vill you not meet-a me?
(aside to Caius)
Pray you, use your patience.
(Aloud) In good time.
By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog, John ape.
(aside to Caius)
Pray you, let us not be laughing-stocks
to other men's humours. I desire you in friendship,
and I will one way or other make you amends.
(Aloud) I will knog your urinals about your knave's
cogscombs for missing your meetings and
Diable! Jack Rugby, mine host de Jarteer, have I
not stay for him to kill him? Have I not, at de place I
As I am a Christians soul, now, look you, this is the
place appointed. I'll be judgement by mine host of the
Peace, I say, Gallia and Gaul, French and Welsh,
soul-curer and body-curer.
Ay, dat is very good, excellent.
Peace, I say. Hear mine host of the Garter. Am I
politic? Am I subtle? Am I a Machiavel? Shall I lose
my doctor? No; he gives me the potions and the
motions. Shall I lose my parson? My priest? My Sir
Hugh? No; he gives me the proverbs and the no-verbs.
Give me thy hand, terrestrial; so. Give me thy hand,
celestial; so. Boys of art, I have deceived you both. I have
art (n.) 1
knowledge, learning, scholarship, science
directed you to wrong places. Your hearts are mighty,
your skins are whole, and let burnt sack be the issue.
Come, lay their swords to pawn. Follow me, lads of
peace; follow, follow, follow.
Trust me, a mad host. Follow, gentlemen,
O sweet Anne Page!
Exeunt Shallow, Slender, and Page
Ha, do I perceive dat? Have you make-a de sot of
us, ha, ha?
This is well. He has made us his vlouting-stog. I
desire you that we may be friends, and let us knog our
prains together to be revenge on this same scald, scurvy,
cogging companion, the host of the Garter.
By gar, with all my heart. He promise to bring me
where is Anne Page. By gar, he deceive me too.
Well, I will smite his noddles. Pray you follow.