The Merry Wives of Windsor (Folio 1, 1623)
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The Merry Wiues of Windsor.
2620art able to woo her in good English.
¶Fal. Haue I laid my braine in the Sun, and dri'de it,
¶this? Am I ridden with a Welch Goate too? Shal I haue
¶a Coxcombe of Frize? Tis time I were choak'd with a
¶putter.
¶taunt of one that makes Fritters of English? This is e-
2630nough to be the decay of lust and late-walking through
¶the Realme.
¶Mist. Page. Why Sir Iohn, do you thinke though wee
¶would haue thrust vertue out of our hearts by the head
2635ple to hell, that euer the deuill could haue made you our
¶delight?
¶Ford. What, a hodge-pudding? A bag of flax?
¶Mist. Page. A puft man?
¶Page. Old, cold, wither'd, and of intollerable en-
2640trailes?
¶Page. And as poore as Iob?
¶Ford. And as wicked as his wife?
¶Euan. And giuen to Fornications, and to Tauernes,
2645and Sacke, and Wine, and Metheglins, and to drinkings
¶me, I am deiected: I am not able to answer the Welch
2650as you will.
¶Mr Broome, that you haue cozon'd of money, to whom
¶you should haue bin a Pander: ouer and aboue that you
¶haue suffer'd, I thinke, to repay that money will be a bi-
2655ting affliction.
¶at my wife, that now laughes at thee: Tell her Mr Slen-
¶der hath married her daughter.
2660Mist. Page. Doctors doubt that;
¶If Anne Page be my daughter, she is (by this) Doctour
¶Caius wife.
¶Slen. Whoa hoe, hoe, Father Page.
¶Page. Sonne? How now? How now Sonne,
2665Haue you dispatch'd?
¶know on't: would I were hang'd la, else.
2670Page, and she's a great lubberly boy. If it had not bene
¶haue swing'd me. If I did not thinke it had beene Anne
¶Boy.
2675Page. Vpon my life then, you tooke the wrong.
¶I tooke a Boy for a Girle: If I had bene married to him,
¶(for all he was in womans apparrell) I would not haue
¶had him.
2680Page. Why this is your owne folly,
¶Did not I tell you how you should know my daughter,
¶By her garments?
¶Slen. I went to her in greene, and cried Mum, and
¶she cride budget, as Anne and I had appointed, and yet
¶Mist. Page. Good George be not angry, I knew of
¶your purpose: turn'd my daughter into white, and in-
¶deede she is now with the Doctor at the Deanrie, and
¶there married.
¶it is not An Page, by gar, I am cozened.
¶M. Page. VVhy? did you take her in white?
2695Windsor.
¶How now Mr Fenton?
¶Anne. Pardon good father, good my mother pardon
¶How chance you went not with Mr Slender?
¶M. Page. Why went you not with Mr Doctor, maid?
¶Fen. You do amaze her: heare the truth of it,
2705Where there was no proportion held in loue:
¶Th'offence is holy, that she hath committed,
¶And this deceit looses the name of craft,
2710Of disobedience, or vnduteous title,
¶Which forced marriage would haue brought vpon her.
¶Ford. Stand not amaz'd, here is no remedie:
¶Money buyes Lands, and wiues are sold by fate.
¶to strike at me, that your Arrow hath glanc'd.
¶Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heauen giue thee
¶chac'd.
¶Heauen giue you many, many merry dayes:
2725Good husband, let vs euery one go home,
¶And laugh this sport ore by a Countrie fire,
¶Sir Iohn and all.
Exeunt
