The Merry Wives of Windsor

William Shakespeare

• Editore: Dover Publications
• Anno: 2014
• ISBN:
  9780486159270
• Argomento: Littérature
• Categoria: Théâtre shakespearien

According to legend, Queen Elizabeth I was so delighted with the character of Sir John Falstaff in Henry IV, Parts I and II, that she commanded Shakespeare to create a romantic comedy depicting the jolly old rogue in love. The obedient playwright responded with The Merry Wives of Windsor, a lively and enduring farce that offers a humorous rebuff to lechery and hypocrisy. Falstaff, whose greed and vanity overwhelm his good sense, determines to seduce a pair of well-to-do country housewives. The portly knight meets his match among the gentlewomen of Windsor, however, who counter his every stratagem with witty maneuvers of their own that expose Sir John's tomfoolery to public mirth. Familiar Shakespearean themes and devices — romance, jealousy, disguises, and mistaken identities — enrich the plot, along with a sparkling cast of supporting characters, including rival wooers, informers, and witty go-betweens.
This madcap romp has been a favorite of readers and playgoers for over 400 years. Students, teachers, and all lovers of literature and drama will appreciate this inexpensive edition of an ageless comic gem.

ACT III.

SCENE I. 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 looked for Master Caius, that calls himself doctor of physic?

SIM. Marry, sir, the pittie-ward,¹ 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. 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.²

To shallow—

Mercy on me! I have a great dispositions to cry.

[Sings.

Melodious birds sing madrigals—

Whenas I sat in Pabylon³—

And a thousand vagram posies.

To shallow &c.

Re-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 style, this way.

EVANS. Pray you, give me my gown; or else keep it in your arms.

Enter PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER

SHAL. 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.

SLEN. [Aside] Ah, sweet Anne Page!

PAGE. Save you, good Sir Hugh!

EVANS. Pless you from his mercy sake, all of you!

SHAL. 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.

SHAL. 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.

SLEN. [Aside] O sweet Anne Page!

SHAL. 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.

SHAL. 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 vill 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 judgement 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 prover...