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You shall have-An 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!

QUICKLY.

Who's there, I trow? Come near the house, I pray you.

Enter FENTON

FENTON.

How now, good woman, how dost thou?

QUICKLY.

The better that it pleases your good worship to ask.

FENTON.

What news? How does pretty Mistress Anne?

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, think'st thou? Shall I not lose my suit?

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?

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 to-day. Hold, there's money

for thee; let me have thy voice in my behalf. If thou seest

her before me, commend me.

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.

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 1.

Before PAGE'S house

Enter MISTRESS PAGE, with a letter

MRS.

PAGE. What! have I scap'd love-letters in the holiday-time

of my beauty, and am I now a subject for them? Let

me see. [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 pick'd-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

reveng'd on him? for reveng'd I will be, as sure as his guts

are made of puddings.

Enter MISTRESS FORD

MRS.

FORD. Mistress Page! trust me, I was going to your house.

MRS.

PAGE. And, trust me, I was coming to you. You look very ill.

MRS.

FORD. Nay, I'll ne'er believe that; I have to show to the contrary.

MRS.

PAGE. Faith, but you do, in my mind.

MRS.

FORD. Well, I do, then; yet, I say, I could show you to

the contrary. O Mistress Page, give me some counsel.

MRS.

PAGE. What's the matter, woman?

MRS.

FORD. O woman, if it were not for one trifling respect,

I could come to such honour!

MRS.

PAGE. Hang the trifle, woman; take the honour. What

is it? Dispense with trifles; what is it?

MRS.

FORD. If I would but go to hell for an eternal moment

or so, I could be knighted.

MRS.

PAGE. What? Thou liest. Sir Alice Ford! These knights

will hack; and so thou shouldst not alter the article of thy gentry.

MRS.

FORD.