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The Merry Wives of Windsor

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Act III, Scene 1

A field near Frogmore.



  • Sir Hugh 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 1195
  • Sir Hugh Evans. I most fehemently desire you you will also look that


  • Sir Hugh 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
    good opportunities for the ork. 'Pless my soul! 1205
    To shallow rivers, to whose falls
    Melodious birds sings madrigals;
    There will we make our peds of roses,
    And a thousand fragrant posies. 1210
    To shallow—
    Mercy on me! I have a great dispositions to cry.
    Melodious birds sing madrigals—
    When as I sat in Pabylon— 1215
    And a thousand vagram posies.
    To shallow &c.

[Re-enter SIMPLE]

  • Simple. Yonder he is coming, this way, Sir Hugh.
  • Sir Hugh Evans. He's welcome. 1220
    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 1225
    the stile, this way.
  • Sir Hugh Evans. Pray you, give me my gown; or else keep it in your arms.


  • Robert Shallow. How now, master Parson! Good morrow, good Sir Hugh.
    Keep a gamester from the dice, and a good student 1230
    from his book, and it is wonderful.
  • Slender. [Aside] Ah, sweet Anne Page!
  • Page. 'Save you, good Sir Hugh!
  • Robert Shallow. What, the sword and the word! do you study them 1235
    both, master parson?
  • Page. And youthful still! in your doublet and hose this
    raw rheumatic day!
  • Page. We are come to you to do a good office, master parson. 1240
  • 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. 1245
  • Robert 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.
  • Page. I think you know him; Master Doctor Caius, the 1250
    renowned French physician.
  • Sir Hugh Evans. Got's will, and his passion of my heart! I had as
    lief you would tell me of a mess of porridge.
  • Sir Hugh Evans. He has no more knowledge in Hibocrates and Galen, 1255
    —and he is a knave besides; a cowardly knave as you
    would desires to be acquainted withal.
  • Page. I warrant you, he's the man should fight with him.
  • Robert Shallow. It appears so by his weapons. Keep them asunder: 1260
    here comes Doctor Caius.

[Enter Host, DOCTOR CAIUS, and RUGBY]

  • Page. Nay, good master parson, keep in your weapon.
  • Host. Disarm them, and let them question: let them keep 1265
    their limbs whole and hack our English.
  • Doctor Caius. I pray you, let-a me speak a word with your ear.
    Vherefore vill you not meet-a me?
  • Sir Hugh Evans. [Aside to DOCTOR CAIUS] Pray you, use your patience:
    in good time. 1270
  • Doctor Caius. By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog, John ape.
  • Sir Hugh Evans. [Aside to DOCTOR 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] 1275
    I will knog your urinals about your knave's cockscomb
    for missing your meetings and appointments.
  • Doctor Caius. Diable! Jack Rugby,—mine host de Jarteer,—have I
    not stay for him to kill him? have I not, at de place
    I did appoint? 1280
  • Sir Hugh Evans. As I am a Christians soul now, look you, this is the
    place appointed: I'll be judgement by mine host of
    the Garter.
  • Host. Peace, I say, Gallia and Gaul, French and Welsh,
    soul-curer and body-curer! 1285
  • 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 1290
    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 1295
    whole, and let burnt sack be the issue. Come, lay
    their swords to pawn. Follow me, lads of peace;
    follow, follow, follow.
  • Slender. [Aside] O sweet Anne Page! 1300

[Exeunt SHALLOW, SLENDER, PAGE, and Host]

  • Doctor Caius. Ha, do I perceive dat? have you make-a de sot of
    us, ha, ha?
  • Sir Hugh Evans. This is well; he has made us his vlouting-stog. I
    desire you that we may be friends; and let us knog 1305
    our prains together to be revenge on this same
    scall, scurvy cogging companion, the host of the Garter.
  • Doctor Caius. By gar, with all my heart. He promise to bring me
    where is Anne Page; by gar, he deceive me too.
  • Sir Hugh Evans. Well, I will smite his noddles. Pray you, follow. 1310