ACT III SCENE 1.  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     look'd for Master Caius, that calls himself Doctor of     Physic?   SIMPLE. 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.   SIMPLE. 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.     To shallow-     Mercy on me! I have a great dispositions to cry.     [Sings]     Melodious birds sing madrigals-     Whenas I sat in Pabylon-     And a thousand vagram posies.     To shallow, etc.                         Re-enter SIMPLE    SIMPLE. 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?   SIMPLE. 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.                                     [Takes out a book]                 Enter PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER    SHALLOW. 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.   SLENDER.  [Aside]  Ah, sweet Anne Page!   PAGE. Save you, good Sir Hugh!   EVANS. Pless you from his mercy sake, all of you!   SHALLOW. 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.   SHALLOW. 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.   SLENDER.  [Aside]  O sweet Anne Page!   SHALLOW. 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.   SHALLOW. 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 will 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 judgment 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 proverbs and the noverbs. Give me thy hand, terrestrial;     so. Give me thy hand, celestial; so. Boys of art, I have     deceiv'd you both; I have directed you to wrong places;     your hearts are mighty, your skins are whole, and let burnt     sack be the issue. Come, lay their swords to pawn. Follow     me, lads of peace; follow, follow, follow.   SHALLOW. Trust me, a mad host. Follow, gentlemen, follow.   SLENDER.  [Aside]  O sweet Anne Page!                                   Exeunt all but CAIUS and EVANS   CAIUS. Ha, do I perceive dat? Have you make-a de sot of us,     ha, ha?   EVANS. This is well; he has made us his vlouting-stog. I     desire you that we may be friends; and let us knog our prains     together to be revenge on this same scall, scurvy, cogging     companion, the host of the Garter.   CAIUS. By gar, with all my heart. He promise to bring me     where is Anne Page; by gar, he deceive me too.   EVANS. Well, I will smite his noddles. Pray you follow.                                                           Exeunt