the head and shoulders, and have given ourselves cozened; I ha' married un garçon, a boy; un paiwithout scruple to hell, that ever the devil could san, by gar, a boy; it is not Anne Page: by gar, I have made you our delight? am cozened.

Ford. What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax?
Mrs. Page. A puffed man?

Page. Old, cold, withered, and of intolerable

entrails.

Mrs. Page. Why, did you take her in green? Caius. Ay, be gar, and 'tis a boy: be gar, I'll raise all Windsor. [Exit Caius. Ford. This is strange: Who hath got the right

Ford. And one that is as slanderous as Satan? Anne?
Page. And as poor as Job?

Ford. And as wicked as his wife?

Eva. And given to fornications, and to taverns, and sack, and wine, and metheglins, and to drinkings, and swearings, and starings, pribbles and prabbles?

Fal. Well, I am your theme: you have the start of me; I am dejected; I am not able to answer the Welch flannel; ignorance itself is a plummet o'er me: use me as you will.

Ford. Marry, sir, we'll bring you to Windsor, to one master Brook, that you have cozened of money, to whom you should have been a pander: over and above that you have suffered, I think, to repay that money will be a biting affliction. Mrs. Ford. Nay, husband, let that go to make amends:

Forgive that sum, and so we'll all be friends. Ford. Well, here's my hand; all's forgiven at last.

Page. Yet be cheerful, knight: thou shalt eat a posset to-night at my house; where I will desire thee to laugh at my wife, that now laughs at thee: Tell her, master Slender hath married her daughter. Mrs. Page. Doctors doubt that: If Anne Page be my daughter, she is, by this, doctor Caius' wife. [Aside.

Enter Slender.

Slen. Whoo, ho! ho! father Page! Page. Son! how now? how now, son? have you despatched?

Slen. Despatched-I'll make the best in Glocestershire know on't; would I were hanged, la, else. Page. Of what, son?

Page. My heart misgives me: Here comes master Fenton.

Enter Fenton and Anne Page.

How now, master Fenton?

Anne. Pardon, good father! good my mother, pardon !

Page. Now, mistress? how chance you went not with master Slender?

Mrs. Page. Why went you not with master doctor, maid?

Fent. You do amaze1 her: Hear the truth of it.
You would have married her most shamefully,
Where there was no proportion held in love.
The truth is, she and I, long since contracted,
Are now so sure that nothing can dissolve us.
The offence is holy, that she hath committed:
And this deceit loses the name of craft,
Of disobedience, or unduteous title;
Since therein she doth evitates and shun
A thousand irreligious cursed hours,
Which forced marriage would have brought upon
her.

Ford. Stand not amaz'd: here is no remedy :-
In love, the heavens themselves do guide the state;
Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate.

Fal. I am glad, though you have ta'en a special stand to strike at me, that your arrow hath glanced. Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven give thee joy!

What cannot be eschew'd, must be embrac'd.
Fal. When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer are
chas'd.

Eva. I will dance and eat plumbs at your wed-
ding.

Slen. I came yonder at Eton to marry mistress
Anne Page, and she's a great lubberly boy: If it
had not been i' the church, I would have swinged Heaven give you many, many merry days'
him, or he should have swinged me. If I did not Good husband, let us every one go home,
think it had been Anne Page, would I might never And laugh this sport o'er by a country fire;
stir, and 'tis a post-master's boy.

Mrs. Page. Well, I will muse no further:-
Master Fenton,

Sir John and all.
Ford.

Page. Upon my life then, you took the wrong. Let it be so:-Sir John, Sten. What need you tell me that? I think so, To master Brook you yet shall hold your word; when I took a boy for a girl: If I had been mar-For he, to-night, shall lie with Mrs. Ford. ried 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 cry'd mum, and she cry'd budget, as Anne and I had appointed; and yet it was not Anne, but a post-master's boy. Eva. Jeshu! Master Slender, cannot you see but marry poys?

Page. O, I am vexed at heart: What shall I do? Mrs. Page. Good George, be not angry: I knew of your purpose; turned my daughter into green; and, indeed, she is now with the doctor at the deanery, and there married.

[Exeunt.

Of this play there is a tradition preserved by Mr. Rowe, that it was written at the command of Queen Elizabeth, who was so delighted with the character of Falstaff, that she wished it to be diffused through more plays; but suspecting that it might pall by continued uniformity, directed the poet to diversify his manner, by showing him in love. No task is harder than that of writing to the ideas of another. Shakspeare knew what the queen, if the story be true, seems not to have known, that by any real passion of tenderness, the selfish craft, the careless jollity, and the lazy luxury of Falstaff, must have suffered so much abatement, that little of his former east would have remained. Falstaff could not love, but by ceasing to be Falstaff, He

could only counterfeit love, and his professions of forming ridiculous characters can confer praise could be prompted, not by the hope of pleasure, only on him who originally discovered it, for it rebut of money. Thus the poet approached as near quires not much of either wit or judgment; its as he could to the work enjoined him; yet having success must be derived almost wholly from the perhaps in the former plays completed his own player, but its power in a skilful mouth, even he idea, seems not to have been able to give Falstaff that despises it, is unable to resist. The conduct of this drama is deficient; the ac

all his former power of entertainment.

This comedy is remarkable for the variety and tion begins and ends often, before the conclusion, number of the personages, who exhibit more cha- and the different parts might change places withracters appropriated and discriminated, than per-out inconvenience; but its general power, that haps can be found in any other play. power by which all works of genius shall finally Whether Shakspeare was the first that produced be tried, is such, that perhaps it never yet had upon the English stage the effect of language dis-reader or spectator who did not think it too soon torted and depraved by provincial or foreign pro- at the end. nunciation, I cannot certainly decide. This mode!

JOHNSON