READ STUDY GUIDE: Act III, Scenes i-iii |
|
Act III, Scene i:
A field near Frogmore.
A field near Frogmore.
| [Enter SIR HUGH EVANS and SIMPLE.] |
| EVANS: |
| I pray you now, good Master Slender's serving-man, |
| and friend Simple by your name, which way have you |
| looked for Master Caius, that calls himself doctor of |
| physic? |
| SIMPLE: |
| Marry, sir, the pittie-ward, the park-ward, every |
| way; old Windsor way, and every way but the town way. |
| EVANS: |
| I most fehemently desire you you will also look that |
| way. |
| SIMPLE: |
| I will, Sir. |
| [Exit.] |
| EVANS: |
| 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 goot opportunities for the 'ork: pless |
| my soul! |
| [Sings] |
 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. |
| [Sings.] |
| Melodious birds sing madrigals,— |
| Whenas I sat in Pabylon,— |
| And a thousand vagram posies. |
| To shallow,— |
| [Re-enter SIMPLE.] |
| SIMPLE: |
| Yonder he is, coming this way, Sir Hugh. |
| EVANS: |
| He's welcome. |
| [Sings] |
| To shallow rivers, to whose falls— |
| Heaven prosper the right!—What weapons is he? |
| SIMPLE: |
| No weapons, sir. There comes my master, Master |
| Shallow, and another gentleman, from Frogmore, over the |
| stile, this way. |
| EVANS: |
| Pray you give me my gown; or else keep it in your |
| arms.[Reads in a book.] |
| [Enter PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER.] |
| SHALLOW: |
| 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. |
| SLENDER: |
| [Aside] Ah, sweet Anne Page! |
| PAGE: |
| Save you, good Sir Hugh! |
| EVANS: |
| Pless you from his mercy sake, all of you! |
| SHALLOW: |
| What, the sword and the word! Do you study |
| them both, Master Parson? |
| PAGE: |
| And youthful still, in your doublet and hose, this raw |
| rheumatic day! |
| EVANS: |
| There is reasons and causes for it. |
| PAGE: |
| We are come to you to do a good office, Master |
| Parson. |
| EVANS: |
| Fery well; what is it? |
| PAGE: |
| 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. |
| SHALLOW: |
| I have lived fourscore years and upward; I never |
| heard a man of his place, gravity, and learning, so wide of |
| his own respect. |
| EVANS: |
| What is he? |
| PAGE: |
| I think you know him: Master Doctor Caius, the |
| renowned French physician. |
| EVANS: |
| Got's will and his passion of my heart! I had as lief |
| you would tell me of a mess of porridge. |
| PAGE: |
| Why? |
| EVANS: |
| He has no more knowledge in Hibbocrates and |
| Galen,—and he is a knave besides; cowardly knave as you |
| would desires to be acquainted withal. |
| PAGE: |
| I warrant you, he's the man should fight with him. |
| SLENDER: |
| [Aside] O, sweet Anne Page! |
| SHALLOW: |
| It appears so, by his weapons. Keep them asunder; |
| here comes Doctor Caius. |
| [Enter HOST, CAIUS, and RUGBY.] |
| PAGE: |
| Nay, good Master Parson, keep in your weapon. |
| SHALLOW: |
| So do you, good Master Doctor. |
| HOST: |
| Disarm them, and let them question; let them keep |
| their limbs whole and hack our English. |
| CAIUS: |
| I pray you, let-a me speak a word with your ear: |
| verefore will you not meet-a me? |
| EVANS: |
| [Aside to CAIUS.] Pray you use your patience; in |
| good time. |
| CAIUS: |
| By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog, John ape. |
| EVANS: |
| [Aside to CAIUS.] Pray you, let us not be |
| laughing-stogs 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 cogscomb |
| for missing your meetings and appointments. |
| CAIUS: |
| Diable!—Jack Rugby,—mine Host de Jarretiere,—have I |
| not stay for him to kill him? Have I not, at de place I did |
| appoint? |
| EVANS: |
| As I am a Christians soul, now, look you, this is the |
| place appointed. I'll be judgment by mine host of the |
| Garter. |
| HOST: |
| Peace, I say, Gallia and Gaullia; French and Welsh, |
| soul-curer and body-curer! |
| CAIUS: |
| Ay, dat is very good; excellent! |
| HOST: |
| 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 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. |
| SHALLOW: |
| Trust me, a mad host!—Follow, gentlemen, follow. |
| SLENDER: |
| [Aside] O, sweet Anne Page! |
| [Exeunt SHALLOW, SLENDER, PAGE, and HOST.] |
| CAIUS: |
| Ha, do I perceive dat? Have you make-a de sot of us, |
| ha, ha? |
| EVANS: |
| 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 scall, scurvy, cogging |
| companion, the host of the Garter. |
| CAIUS: |
| By gar, with all my heart. He promise to bring me |
| where is Anne Page; by gar, he deceive me too. |
| EVANS: |
| Well, I will smite his noddles. Pray you follow. |
| [Exeunt.] |
|
|
||||
|
