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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.

¶

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.]