Slen. WHA THAT hoe! hoe! father Page. Page. Son, how now? how now, fon, have you dispatch'd? Slen. Difpatch'd? I'll make the best in Gloucestershire know on't; would I were hang'd la, else. Page. Of what, son? Slen. I came yonder at Eaton to marry mistress Anne Page, and fhe's a great lubberly boy. If it had not been i'th' church, I would have fwing'd him, or he fhould have fwing'd me. If I did not think it had been Anne Page, would I might never ftir, and 'tis a poft-master's boy. Page. Upon my life, then you took the wrong. Slen. What need you tell me that? I think so, when I took a boy for a girl: if I had been marry'd to him, for all he was in woman's apparel, I would not have had him Page. Why, this is your own folly. Did not I tell you, how you should know my daughter by her garments? Slen. I went to her in white and cried mum, and fhe cry'd budget, as Anne and I had appointed; and it was not Anne, but a poft-mafter's boy. Eva. Jefhu! Mafter Slender, cannot you fee but marry boys? Page. O, I am vext at heart. What fhall I do? Mrs. Page. Good George, be not angry; I knew of your purpose, turn'd my daughter into green, and, indeed, fhe is now with the Doctor at the Deanry, and there married. SCENE ER is mistress Page? by gar, I am cozen'd; Gaius. I ha' marry'd one garsoon, a boy; one peasant, by gar; a boy; it is not Anne Page; by gar, I am cozen'd. Mrs. Page. Why? did you not take her in green? Caius. Ay, by gar, and 'tis a boy; be gar, I'll raise all Windfor. Ford. This is ftrange! who hath got the right Anne? How now, Mr. Fenton? Anne. Pardon, good father; good my mother, pardon. Page. Now, miftrefs, how chance you went not with Mr. Slender? Mrs. Page. Why went you not with Mr. Doctor, maid? Fent. You do amaze her: Hear the truth of it. Since therein fhe doth evitate and and shun] Which forced marriage would have brought upon her. Page. Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heav'n give thee joy! What cannot be efchew'd, must be embrac`d. Eva. I will alfo dance and eat plumbs at your Wedding. Fal. When nightdogs run, all forts of deer are chas'd. Mrs. Page. Well, I will mufe no further. Mr. Fenton, Heav'n give you many, many merry days! Good hufband, let us every one go home, And laugh this fport o'er by a country fire, Sir John and all. Ford. Let it be fo:-Sir John, To mafter Brook you' yet fhall hold your word; [Exeunt omnes. The End of the First Volume. |