Act II, Scene ii:
A room in the Garter Inn.

[Enter FALSTAFF and PISTOL.]

FALSTAFF:

I will not lend thee a penny.

PISTOL:

Why then, the world's mine oyster,

Which I with sword will open.

I will retort the sum in equipage.

FALSTAFF:

Not a penny. I have been content, sir, you should

lay my countenance to pawn; I have grated upon my good

friends for three reprieves for you and your coach-fellow,

Nym; or else you had looked through the grate, like a

geminy of baboons. I am damned in hell for swearing to

gentlemen my friends you were good soldiers and tall fellows;

and when Mistress Bridget lost the handle of her fan,

I took 't upon mine honour thou hadst it not.

PISTOL:

Didst not thou share? Hadst thou not fifteen pence?

FALSTAFF:

Reason, you rogue, reason. Thinkest thou I'll

endanger my soul gratis? At a word, hang no more about me,

I am no gibbet for you: go: a short knife and a throng!—

to your manor of Picht-hatch! go. You'll not bear a letter

for me, you rogue!—you stand upon your honour!—Why,

thou unconfinable baseness, it is as much as I can do to

keep the terms of my honour precise. I, I, I myself

sometimes, leaving the fear of God on the left hand, and hiding

mine honour in my necessity, am fain to shuffle, to hedge,

and to lurch; and yet you, rogue, will ensconce your rags,

your cat-a-mountain looks, your red-lattice phrases, and

your bold-beating oaths, under the shelter of your honour!

You will not do it, you!

PISTOL:

I do relent; what wouldst thou more of man?

[Enter ROBIN.]

ROBIN:

Sir, here's a woman would speak with you.

FALSTAFF:

Let her approach.

[Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY.]

QUICKLY:

Give your worship good morrow.

FALSTAFF:

Good morrow, good wife.

QUICKLY:

Not so, an't please your worship.

FALSTAFF:

Good maid, then.

QUICKLY:

I'll be sworn;

As my mother was, the first hour I was born.

FALSTAFF:

I do believe the swearer. What with me?

QUICKLY:

Shall I vouchsafe your worship a word or two?

FALSTAFF:

Two thousand, fair woman; and I'll vouchsafe

thee the hearing.

QUICKLY:

There is one Mistress Ford, sir,—I pray, come a little

nearer this ways:—I myself dwell with Master Doctor

Caius.

FALSTAFF:

Well, on: Mistress Ford, you say,—

QUICKLY:

Your worship says very true;—I pray your worship

come a little nearer this ways.

FALSTAFF:

I warrant thee nobody hears—mine own people,

mine own people.

QUICKLY:

Are they so? God bless them, and make them his servants!

FALSTAFF:

Well: Mistress Ford, what of her?

QUICKLY:

Why, sir, she's a good creature. Lord, Lord! your

worship's a wanton! Well, heaven forgive you, and all of

us, I pray.

FALSTAFF:

Mistress Ford; come, Mistress Ford—

QUICKLY:

Marry, this is the short and the long of it. You

have brought her into such a canaries as 'tis wonderful:

the best courtier of them all, when the court lay at Windsor,

could never have brought her to such a canary; yet

there has been knights, and lords, and gentlemen, with

their coaches; I warrant you, coach after coach, letter after

letter, gift after gift; smelling so sweetly,—all musk, and so

rushling, I warrant you, in silk and gold; and in such alligant

terms; and in such wine and sugar of the best and the

fairest, that would have won any woman's heart; and I

warrant you, they could never get an eye-wink of her.

I had myself twenty angels given me this morning; but I

defy all angels, in any such sort, as they say, but in the

way of honesty: and, I warrant you, they could never get

her so much as sip on a cup with the proudest of them all;

and yet there has been earls, nay, which is more,

pensioners; but, I warrant you, all is one with her.

FALSTAFF:

But what says she to me? be brief, my good she-Mercury.

QUICKLY:

Marry, she hath received your letter; for the

which she thanks you a thousand times; and she gives you

to notify that her husband will be absence from his house

between ten and eleven.

FALSTAFF:

Ten and eleven?

QUICKLY:

Ay, forsooth; and then you may come and see

the picture, she says, that you wot of: Master Ford, her

husband, will be from home. Alas! the sweet woman leads

an ill life with him; he's a very jealousy man; she leads a

very frampold life with him, good heart.

FALSTAFF:

Ten and eleven. Woman, commend me to her; I

will not fail her.

QUICKLY:

Why, you say well. But I have another messenger

to your worship: Mistress Page hath her hearty commendations

to you too; and let me tell you in your ear, she's as

fartuous a civil modest wife, and one, I tell you, that will

not miss you morning nor evening prayer, as any is in

Windsor, whoe'er be the other; and she bade me tell your

worship that her husband is seldom from home, but she

hopes there will come a time. I never knew a woman so

dote upon a man: surely I think you have charms, la! yes,

in truth.

FALSTAFF:

Not I, I assure thee; setting the attraction of my

good parts aside, I have no other charms.

QUICKLY:

Blessing on your heart for 't!

FALSTAFF:

But, I pray thee, tell me this: has Ford's wife and

Page's wife acquainted each other how they love me?

QUICKLY:

That were a jest indeed! They have not so little

grace, I hope: that were a trick indeed! But Mistress Page

would desire you to send her your little page, of all loves:

her husband has a marvellous infection to the little page;

and, truly, Master Page is an honest man. Never a wife in

Windsor leads a better life than she does; do what she will,

say what she will, take all, pay all, go to bed when she

list, rise when she list, all is as she will; and truly she

deserves it; for if there be a kind woman in Windsor, she

is one. You must send her your page; no remedy.

FALSTAFF:

Why, I will.

QUICKLY:

Nay, but do so then; and, look you, he may come

and go between you both; and in any case have a

nay-word, that you may know one another's mind, and the boy

never need to understand any thing; for 'tis not good that

children should know any wickedness: old folks, you

know, have discretion, as they say, and know the world.

FALSTAFF:

Fare thee well; commend me to them both.

There's my purse; I am yet thy debtor. Boy, go along with

this woman.—

[Exeunt MISTRESS QUICKLY and ROBIN.]

This news distracts me.

PISTOL:

This punk is one of Cupid's carriers;

Clap on more sails; pursue; up with your fights;

Give fire; she is my prize, or ocean whelm them all!

[Exit.]

FALSTAFF:

Say'st thou so, old Jack? go thy ways; I'll make

more of thy old body than I have done. Will they yet look

after thee? Wilt thou, after the expense of so much money,

be now a gainer? Good body, I thank thee. Let them say

'tis grossly done; so it be fairly done, no matter.

[Enter BARDOLPH, with a cup of sack.]

BARDOLPH:

Sir John, there's one Master Brook below would

fain speak with you and be acquainted with you: and hath

sent your worship a moming's draught of sack.

FALSTAFF:

Brook is his name?

BARDOLPH:

Ay, sir.

FALSTAFF:

Call him in.[Exit BARDOLPH.]Such Brooks are

welcome to me, that o'erflow such liquor. Ah, ha! Mistress

Ford and Mistress Page, have I encompassed you? Go to;

via!

[Re-enter BARDOLPH, with FORD disguised.]

FORD:

Bless you, sir!

FALSTAFF:

And you, sir; would you speak with me?

FORD:

I make bold to press with so little preparation upon

you.

FALSTAFF:

You're welcome. What's your will?—Give us leave,

drawer.

[Exit BARDOLPH.]

FORD:

Sir, I am a gentleman that have spent much: my name

is Brook.

FALSTAFF:

Good Master Brook, I desire more acquaintance

of you.

FORD:

Good Sir John, I sue for yours: not to charge you; for I

must let you understand I think myself in better plight for

a lender than you are: the which hath something

embold'ned me to this unseasoned intrusion; for they say, if

money go before, all ways do lie open.

FALSTAFF:

Money is a good soldier, sir, and will on.

FORD:

Troth, and I have a bag of money here troubles me; if

you will help to bear it, Sir John, take all, or half,

for easing me of the carriage.

FALSTAFF:

Sir, I know not how I may deserve to be your porter.

FORD:

I will tell you, sir, if you will give me the hearing.

FALSTAFF:

Speak, good Master Brook; I shall be glad to be

your servant.

FORD:

Sir, I hear you are a scholar,—I will be brief with you,

and you have been a man long known to me, though I

had never so good means, as desire, to make myself acquainted

with you. I shall discover a thing to you, wherein

I must very much lay open mine own imperfection; but,

good Sir John, as you have one eye upon my follies, as you

hear them unfolded, turn another into the register of your

own, that I may pass with a reproof the easier, sith you

yourself know how easy is it to be such an offender.

FALSTAFF:

Very well, sir; proceed.

FORD:

There is a gentlewoman in this town, her husband's

name is Ford.

FALSTAFF:

Well, sir.

FORD:

I have long loved her, and, I protest to you, bestowed

much on her; followed her with a doting observance;

engrossed opportunities to meet her; fee'd every slight occasion

that could but niggardly give me sight of her; not

only bought many presents to give her, but have given

largely to many to know what she would have given;

briefly, I have pursued her as love hath pursued me; which

hath been on the wing of all occasions. But whatsoever I

have merited, either in my mind or in my means, meed, I

am sure, I have received none, unless experience be a jewel;

that I have purchased at an infinite rate, and that hath

taught me to say this,

Love like a shadow flies when substance love pursues;

Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues.

FALSTAFF:

Have you received no promise of satisfaction at her hands?

FORD:

Never.

FALSTAFF:

Have you importuned her to such a purpose?

FORD:

Never.

FALSTAFF:

Of what quality was your love, then?

FORD:

Like a fair house built on another man's ground; so

that I have lost my edifice by mistaking the place where

erected it.

FALSTAFF:

To what purpose have you unfolded this to me?

FORD:

When I have told you that, I have told you all. Some

say that though she appear honest to me, yet in other

places she enlargeth her mirth so far that there is shrewd

construction made of her. Now, Sir John, here is the heart

of my purpose: you are a gentleman of excellent

breeding, admirable discourse, of great admittance, authentic in

your place and person, generally allowed for your many

war-like, court-like, and learned preparations.

FALSTAFF:

O, sir!

FORD:

Believe it, for you know it. There is money; spend it,

spend it; spend more; spend all I have; only give me so

much of your time in exchange of it as to lay an amiable

siege to the honesty of this Ford's wife: use your art of

wooing, win her to consent to you; if any man may, you

may as soon as any.

FALSTAFF:

Would it apply well to the vehemency of your

affection, that I should win what you would enjoy?

Methinks you prescribe to yourself very preposterously.

FORD:

O, understand my drift. She dwells so securely on the

excellency of her honour that the folly of my soul dares

not present itself; she is too bright to be looked against.

Now, could I come to her with any detection in my hand,

my desires had instance and argument to commend themselves;

I could drive her then from the ward of her purity,

her reputation, her marriage-vow, and a thousand other her

defences, which now are too too strongly embattled against

me. What say you to't, Sir John?

FALSTAFF:

Master Brook, I will first make bold with your

money; next, give me your hand; and last, as I am a gentleman,

you shall, if you will, enjoy Ford's wife.

FORD:

O good sir!

FALSTAFF:

I say you shall.

FORD:

Want no money, Sir John; you shall want none.

FALSTAFF:

Want no Mistress Ford, Master Brook; you shall

want none. I shall be with her, I may tell you, by her own

appointment; even as you came in to me her assistant or

go-between parted from me: I say I shall be with her between

ten and eleven; for at that time the jealous rascally

knave, her husband, will be forth. Come you to me at

night; you shall know how I speed.

FORD:

I am blest in your acquaintance. Do you know Ford, sir?

FALSTAFF:

Hang him, poor cuckoldly knave! I know him

not; yet I wrong him to call him poor; they say the

jealous wittolly knave hath masses of money; for the which

his wife seems to me well-favoured. I will use her as the

key of the cuckoldly rogue's coffer; and there's my harvest-home.

FORD:

I would you knew Ford, sir, that you might avoid him

if you saw him.

FALSTAFF:

Hang him, mechanical salt-butter rogue! I will

stare him out of his wits; I will awe him with my cudgel;

it shall hang like a meteor o'er the cuckold's horns. Master

Brook, thou shalt know I will predominate over the

peasant, and thou shalt lie with his wife. Come to me soon at

night. Ford's a knave, and I will aggravate his style; thou,

Master Brook, shalt know him for knave and cuckold.

Come to me soon at night.

[Exit.]

FORD:

What a damned Epicurean rascal is this! My heart is

ready to crack with impatience. Who says this is improvident

jealousy? My wife hath sent to him; the hour is fixed;

the match is made. Would any man have thought this? See

the hell of having a false woman! My bed shall be abused,

my coffers ransacked, my reputation gnawn at; and I shall

not only receive this villanous wrong, but stand under the

adoption of abominable terms, and by him that does me

this wrong. Terms! names! Amaimon sounds well; Lucifer,

well; Barbason, well; yet they are devils' additions, the names

of fiends. But Cuckold! Wittol!—Cuckold! the devil himself

hath not such a name. Page is an ass, a secure ass; he will trust

his wife; he will not be jealous; I will rather trust a Fleming

with my butter, Parson Hugh the Welshman with my

cheese, an Irishman with my aqua-vitae bottle, or a thief to

walk my ambling gelding, than my wife with herself; then

she plots, then she ruminates, then she devises; and what

they think in their hearts they may effect, they will break

their hearts but they will effect. God be praised for my

jealousy! Eleven o'clock the hour. I will prevent this, detect

my wife, be revenged on Falstaff, and laugh at Page.

I will about it; better three hours too soon than a minute

too late. Fie, fie, fie! cuckold! cuckold! cuckold!

[Exit.]