William Shakespeare : Complete Collection (37 plays, 160 sonnets and 5 Poetry...)
Enter Caius, Rugby.
Caius. Jack Rugby!
Rug. Sir?
Caius. Vat is the clock, Jack?
Rug. ’Tis past the hour, sir, that Sir Hugh promis’d to meet.
Caius. By gar, he has save his soul, dat he is no come; he has pray his Pible well, dat he is no come. By gar, Jack Rugby, he is dead already, if he be come.
Rug. He is wise, sir; he knew your worship would kill him if he came.
Caius. By gar, de herring is no dead so as I vill kill him. Take your rapier, Jack, I vill tell you how I vill kill him.
Rug. Alas, sir, I cannot fence.
Caius. Villainy, take your rapier.
Rug. Forbear; here’s company.
[Enter] Page, Shallow, Slender, Host.
Host. [God] bless thee, bully-doctor!
Shal. [God] save you, Master Doctor Caius!
Page. Now, good Master Doctor!
Slen. Give you good morrow, sir.
Caius. Vat be all you, one, two, tree, four, come for?
Host. To see thee fight, to see thee foin, to see thee traverse, to see thee here, to see thee there, to see thee pass thy puncto, thy stock, thy reverse, thy distance, thy montant. Is he dead, my Ethiopian? Is he dead, my Francisco? Ha, bully? What says my Aesculapius? my Galien? my heart of elder? Ha? is he dead, bully-stale? is he dead?
Caius. By gar, he is de coward Jack priest of de vorld; he is not show his face.
Host. Thou art a Castalion-King-Urinal! Hector of Greece, my boy!
Caius. I pray you bear witness that me have stay six or seven, two, tree hours for him, and he is no come.
Shal. He is the wiser man, Master Doctor: he is a curer of souls, and you a curer of bodies. If you should fight, you go against the hair of your professions. Is it not true, Master Page?
Page. Master Shallow, you have yourself been a great fighter, though now a man of peace.
Shal. Bodykins, Master Page, though I now be old and of the peace, if I see a sword out, my finger itches to make one. Though we are justices and doctors and churchmen, Master Page, we have some salt of our youth in us, we are the sons of women, Master Page.
Page. ’Tis true, Master Shallow.
Shal. It will be found so, Master Page. Master Doctor Caius, I am come to fetch you home. I am sworn of the peace. You have show’d yourself a wise physician, and Sir Hugh hath shown himself a wise and patient churchman. You must go with me, Master Doctor.
Host. Pardon, guest-justice. A [word], Mounseur Mock-water.
Caius. Mock-vater? vat is dat?
Host. Mock-water, in our English tongue, is valor, bully.
Caius. By gar, then I have as much mock-vater as de Englishman. Scurvy Jack-dog priest! By gar, me vill cut his ears.
Host. He will clapper-claw thee tightly, bully.
Caius. Clapper-de-claw? vat is dat?
Host. That is, he will make thee amends.
Caius. By gar, me do look he shall clapper-de-claw me, for, by gar, me vill have it.
Host. And I will provoke him to’t, or let him wag.
Caius. Me tank you for dat.
Host. And moreover, bully—but first, Master Guest, and Master Page, and eke Cavaleiro Slender, go you through the town to Frogmore.
[Aside to them.]
Page. Sir Hugh is there, is he?
Host. He is there. See what humor he is in; and I will bring the doctor about by the fields. Will it do well?
Shal. We will do it.
All [Page, Shal., Slen.] Adieu, good Master Doctor.
[Exeunt all but the Host, Caius, and Rugby.]
Caius. By gar, me vill kill de priest, for he speak for a jack-an-ape to Anne Page.
Host. Let him die; [but first] sheathe thy impatience, throw cold water on thy choler. Go about the fields with me through Frogmore, I will bring thee where Mistress Anne Page is, at a farm-house a-feasting; and thou shalt woo her. Cried game? Said I well?
Caius. By gar, me dank you vor dat. By gar, I love you; and I shall procure-a you de good guest: de earl, de knight, de lords, de gentlemen, my patients.
Host. For the which I will be thy adversary toward Anne Page. Said I well?
Caius. By gar, ’tis good; vell said.
Host. Let us wag then.
Caius. Come at my heels, Jack Rugby.
Exeunt.
¶
ACT III
Scene I
Enter Evans, Simple.
Evans. I pray you now, good Master Slender’s servingman, and friend Simple by your name, which way have you look’d for Master Caius, that calls himself Doctor of Physic?
Sim. 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.
Sim. I will, sir.
[Exit.]
Evans. [Jeshu] pless my soul! how full of chollors I am and trempling of mind! I shall be glad if he have deceiv’d 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!
[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—
When as I sat in Pabylon—
And a thousand vagram posies.
To shallow, etc.”
[Enter Simple.]
Sim. 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?
Sim. 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.