ACT III SCENE 1.

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
    look'd 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, etc.

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. [Takes out 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 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.
  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-stocks 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 Jarteer-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 Gaul, 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 noverbs. Give me thy hand, terrestrial;
    so. Give me thy hand, celestial; so. Boys of art, I have
    deceiv'd 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 all but CAIUS and EVANS
  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