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Page. Son, how now? how now, son, have you dispatch'd ?
Slen. Dispatch'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 she's a great lubberly boy. If it had not been i'th' church, I would have swing'd him, or he should have swing'd me. If I did not think it had been Anne Page, would I might never stir, and 'tis a post-mafter'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 she cry'd budget, as Anne and I had appointed ; and it was not Anne, but a post-master's boy.
Eva. Jeshu! Master Slender, cannot you see but marry boys ?
Page, O, I am vext at heart. What shall I do?
Mrs. Page. Good George, be not angry; I knew of your purpose, turn'd my daughter into green, and, indeed, she is now with the Doctor at the Deanry, and there married.
Caius. Vi hao marry'd one garsoon, a boy; one
ER is mistress Page? by gar, I am cozen'd; 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 Windsor.
Ford. This is strange! who hath got the right Anne?
Enter Fenton, and Anne Page.
pardon. Page. Now, mistress, 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. You would have marry'd 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 diffolve us. Th' offence is holy, that she hath committed ;) And this deceit loses the name of craft, Of difobedience, or unduteous title; Since therein she doth evitate and and shun A thousand irreligious cursed hours, Which forced marriage would have brought upon her.
Fordi Stand not amaz’d, here is no remedy. In love, the heav'ns themselves do guide the state ; Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate.
Fal I am glad, tho' you have ta'en a special Stand to strike at me, that your arrow hath glanc'd.
Page. Well, what remedy ? Fenton, heav'n give thee
joy! What cannot be eschewd, must be embracd.
Eva. I will also dance and eat plumbs at your Wedding
Fal. When nightdogs run, all sorts of deer are chas'd.
Mrs. Page. Well, I will muse no further. Mr. Fenton,
Ford. Let it be so: Sir John,
The End of the First Volume.