Document:  All > Shakespeare > Comedies > Merry Wives of Windsor > Act III, scene I


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

SIR HUGH EVANS: I most fehemently desire you you will also look that

SIMPLE: I will, sir.


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!


	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.


	Melodious birds sing madrigals--
	When as I sat in Pabylon--
	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.


	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.

SIR HUGH EVANS: Pray you, give me my gown; or else keep it in your arms.


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!

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!

SIR HUGH EVANS: There is reasons and causes for it.

PAGE: We are come to you to do a good office, master parson.

SIR HUGH 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

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.

SIR HUGH EVANS: What is he?

PAGE: I think you know him; Master Doctor Caius, the
	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.

PAGE: Why?

SIR HUGH EVANS: He has no more knowledge in Hibocrates and Galen,
	--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.

SHALLOW: [Aside]  O sweet Anne Page!

SHALLOW: It appears so by his weapons. Keep them asunder:
	here comes Doctor Caius.

	[Enter Host, DOCTOR 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.

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.

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.


	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?

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!

DOCTOR 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]

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
	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.



Search for this word      in all documents   just this document

What do you think? Grade this document:  

(Average grade so far: D+, 2 graders.)

2 grades received so far:

F:  1 user
D-:  0 users
D:  0 users
D+:  0 users
C-:  0 users
C:  0 users
C+:  0 users
B-:  0 users
B:  1 user
B+:  0 users
A-:  0 users
A:  0 users
A+:  0 users

Need writing help? Try RhymeZone's rhyming dictionary and thesaurus features

Help  Advanced  Feedback  Android  iPhone/iPad  API  Blog  Privacy

Copyright © 2018 Datamuse