The Merry Wives of Windsor - William Shakespeare (best books to read ever .txt) 📗

An the door shuts fool’s-head of your own. No, I know Anne’s mind for that: never a woman in Windsor knows more of Anne’s mind than I do; nor can do more than I do with her, I thank heaven. Fenton Within. Who’s within there? ho! Mistress Quickly Who’s there, I trow? Come near the house, I pray you. Enter Fenton. Fenton How now, good woman! how dost thou? Mistress Quickly The better, that it pleases your good worship to ask. Fenton What news? how does pretty Mistress Anne? Mistress Quickly In truth, sir, and she is pretty, and honest, and gentle; and one that is your friend, I can tell you that by the way; I praise heaven for it. Fenton Shall I do any good, thinkest thou? Shall I not lose my suit? Mistress Quickly Troth, sir, all is in His hands above; but notwithstanding, Master Fenton, I’ll be sworn on a book she loves you. Have not your worship a wart above your eye? Fenton Yes, marry, have I; what of that? Mistress Quickly Well, thereby hangs a tale; good faith, it is such another Nan; but, I detest, an honest maid as ever broke bread. We had an hour’s talk of that wart; I shall never laugh but in that maid’s company;⁠—but, indeed, she is given too much to allicholy and musing. But for you⁠—well, go to. Fenton Well, I shall see her today. Hold, there’s money for thee; let me have thy voice in my behalf: if thou seest her before me, commend me. Mistress Quickly Will I? i’ faith, that we will; and I will tell your worship more of the wart the next time we have confidence; and of other wooers. Fenton Well, farewell; I am in great haste now. Mistress Quickly Farewell to your worship.⁠— Exit Fenton. Truly, an honest gentleman; but Anne loves him not; for I know Anne’s mind as well as another does. Out upon’t, what have I forgot? Exit. Act II Scene I

Before Page’s house.

Enter Mistress Page, with a letter. Mistress Page

What! have I ’scaped love-letters in the holiday-time of my beauty, and am I now a subject for them? Let me see. She reads.

“Ask me no reason why I love you; for though Love use Reason for his precisian, he admits him not for his counsellor. You are not young, no more am I; go to, then, there’s sympathy: you are merry, so am I; ha! ha! then there’s more sympathy; you love sack, and so do I; would you desire better sympathy? Let it suffice thee, Mistress Page, at the least, if the love of soldier can suffice, that I love thee. I will not say, pity me: ’tis not a soldier-like phrase; but I say, Love me.

By me,
Thine own true knight,
By day or night,
Or any kind of light,
With all his might
For thee to fight,

John Falstaff.”

What a Herod of Jewry is this! O wicked, wicked world! One that is well-nigh worn to pieces with age to show himself a young gallant. What an unweighed behaviour hath this Flemish drunkard picked, with the devil’s name! out of my conversation, that he dares in this manner assay me? Why, he hath not been thrice in my company! What should I say to him? I was then frugal of my mirth:⁠—Heaven forgive me! Why, I’ll exhibit a bill in the parliament for the putting down of men. How shall I be revenged on him? for revenged I will be, as sure as his guts are made of puddings.

Enter Mistress Ford. Mistress Ford Mistress Page! trust me, I was going to your house. Mistress Page And, trust me, I was coming to you. You look very ill. Mistress Ford Nay, I’ll ne’er believe that; I have to show to the contrary. Mistress Page Faith, but you do, in my mind. Mistress Ford Well, I do, then; yet, I say, I could show you to the contrary. O, Mistress Page! give me some counsel. Mistress Page What’s the matter, woman? Mistress Ford O woman, if it were not for one trifling respect, I could come to such honour! Mistress Page Hang the trifle, woman; take the honour. What is it?⁠—Dispense with trifles;⁠—what is it? Mistress Ford If I would but go to hell for an eternal moment or so, I could be knighted. Mistress Page What? thou liest. Sir Alice Ford! These knights will hack; and so thou shouldst not alter the article of thy gentry. Mistress Ford We burn daylight: hands her a letter here, read, read; perceive how I might be knighted. I shall think the worse of fat men as long as I have an eye to make difference of men’s liking: and yet he would not swear; praised women’s modesty; and gave such orderly and well-behaved reproof to all uncomeliness that I would have sworn his disposition would have gone to the truth of his words; but they do no more adhere and keep place together than the Hundredth Psalm to the tune of “Greensleeves.” What tempest, I trow, threw this whale, with so many tuns of oil in his belly, ashore at Windsor? How shall I be revenged on him? I think the best way were to entertain him with hope, till the wicked fire of lust have melted him in his own grease. Did you ever hear the like? Mistress Page Holding the two letters side by side. Letter for letter, but that the name of Page and Ford differs. To thy great comfort in this mystery of ill opinions, here’s the twin-brother of thy letter; but let thine inherit first, for, I protest, mine never shall. I warrant he hath a thousand of these letters, writ with blank space for different names, sure, more, and these are of the second edition. He will print them, out of doubt; for he cares not what he puts into the press, when he would put us two: I had rather be a giantess and lie under