Speeches (Lines) for Sir Hugh Evans in "The Merry Wives of Windsor"

Robert Shallow. It is an old coat.

Sir Hugh Evans. The dozen white louses do become an old coat well;
it agrees well, passant; it is a familiar beast to
man, and signifies love.

Robert Shallow. You may, by marrying.

Sir Hugh Evans. It is marring indeed, if he quarter it.

Robert Shallow. Not a whit.

Sir Hugh Evans. Yes, py'r lady; if he has a quarter of your coat,
there is but three skirts for yourself, in my
simple conjectures: but that is all one. If Sir
John Falstaff have committed disparagements unto
you, I am of the church, and will be glad to do my
benevolence to make atonements and compremises
between you.

Robert Shallow. The council shall bear it; it is a riot.

Sir Hugh Evans. It is not meet the council hear a riot; there is no
fear of Got in a riot: the council, look you, shall
desire to hear the fear of Got, and not to hear a
riot; take your vizaments in that.

Robert Shallow. Ha! o' my life, if I were young again, the sword
should end it.

Sir Hugh Evans. It is petter that friends is the sword, and end it:
and there is also another device in my prain, which
peradventure prings goot discretions with it: there
is Anne Page, which is daughter to Master Thomas
Page, which is pretty virginity.

Slender. Mistress Anne Page? She has brown hair, and speaks
small like a woman.

Sir Hugh Evans. It is that fery person for all the orld, as just as
you will desire; and seven hundred pounds of moneys,
and gold and silver, is her grandsire upon his
death's-bed--Got deliver to a joyful resurrections!
--give, when she is able to overtake seventeen years
old: it were a goot motion if we leave our pribbles
and prabbles, and desire a marriage between Master
Abraham and Mistress Anne Page.

Slender. Did her grandsire leave her seven hundred pound?

Sir Hugh Evans. Ay, and her father is make her a petter penny.

Slender. I know the young gentlewoman; she has good gifts.

Sir Hugh Evans. Seven hundred pounds and possibilities is goot gifts.

Robert Shallow. Well, let us see honest Master Page. Is Falstaff there?

Sir Hugh Evans. Shall I tell you a lie? I do despise a liar as I do
despise one that is false, or as I despise one that
is not true. The knight, Sir John, is there; and, I
beseech you, be ruled by your well-willers. I will
peat the door for Master Page.
[Knocks]
What, hoa! Got pless your house here!

Page. [Within] Who's there?

Sir Hugh Evans. Here is Got's plessing, and your friend, and Justice
Shallow; and here young Master Slender, that
peradventures shall tell you another tale, if
matters grow to your likings.

Page. Sir, he is within; and I would I could do a good
office between you.

Sir Hugh Evans. It is spoke as a Christians ought to speak.

Falstaff. 'Twere better for you if it were known in counsel:
you'll be laughed at.

Sir Hugh Evans. Pauca verba, Sir John; goot worts.

Slender. Where's Simple, my man? Can you tell, cousin?

Sir Hugh Evans. Peace, I pray you. Now let us understand. There is
three umpires in this matter, as I understand; that
is, Master Page, fidelicet Master Page; and there is
myself, fidelicet myself; and the three party is,
lastly and finally, mine host of the Garter.

Page. We three, to hear it and end it between them.

Sir Hugh Evans. Fery goot: I will make a prief of it in my note-
book; and we will afterwards ork upon the cause with
as great discreetly as we can.

Pistol. He hears with ears.

Sir Hugh Evans. The tevil and his tam! what phrase is this, 'He
hears with ear'? why, it is affectations.

Falstaff. Is this true, Pistol?

Sir Hugh Evans. No; it is false, if it is a pick-purse.

Bardolph. Why, sir, for my part I say the gentleman had drunk
himself out of his five sentences.

Sir Hugh Evans. It is his five senses: fie, what the ignorance is!

Slender. Ay, you spake in Latin then too; but 'tis no
matter: I'll ne'er be drunk whilst I live again,
but in honest, civil, godly company, for this trick:
if I be drunk, I'll be drunk with those that have
the fear of God, and not with drunken knaves.

Sir Hugh Evans. So Got udge me, that is a virtuous mind.

Slender. So I do, sir.

Sir Hugh Evans. Give ear to his motions, Master Slender: I will
description the matter to you, if you be capacity of it.

Slender. Nay, I will do as my cousin Shallow says: I pray
you, pardon me; he's a justice of peace in his
country, simple though I stand here.

Sir Hugh Evans. But that is not the question: the question is
concerning your marriage.

Robert Shallow. Ay, there's the point, sir.

Sir Hugh Evans. Marry, is it; the very point of it; to Mistress Anne Page.

Slender. Why, if it be so, I will marry her upon any
reasonable demands.

Sir Hugh Evans. But can you affection the 'oman? Let us command to
know that of your mouth or of your lips; for divers
philosophers hold that the lips is parcel of the
mouth. Therefore, precisely, can you carry your
good will to the maid?

Slender. I hope, sir, I will do as it shall become one that
would do reason.

Sir Hugh Evans. Nay, Got's lords and his ladies! you must speak
possitable, if you can carry her your desires
towards her.

Slender. I will marry her, sir, at your request: but if there
be no great love in the beginning, yet heaven may
decrease it upon better acquaintance, when we are
married and have more occasion to know one another;
I hope, upon familiarity will grow more contempt:
but if you say, 'Marry her,' I will marry her; that
I am freely dissolved, and dissolutely.

Sir Hugh Evans. It is a fery discretion answer; save the fall is in
the ort 'dissolutely:' the ort is, according to our
meaning, 'resolutely:' his meaning is good.

Robert Shallow. I will wait on him, fair Mistress Anne.

Sir Hugh Evans. Od's plessed will! I will not be absence at the grace.

Slender. I'll rather be unmannerly than troublesome.
You do yourself wrong, indeed, la!

Sir Hugh Evans. Go your ways, and ask of Doctor Caius' house which
is the way: and there dwells one Mistress Quickly,
which is in the manner of his nurse, or his dry
nurse, or his cook, or his laundry, his washer, and
his wringer.

Simple. Well, sir.

Sir Hugh Evans. Nay, it is petter yet. Give her this letter; for it
is a 'oman that altogether's acquaintance with
Mistress Anne Page: and the letter is, to desire
and require her to solicit your master's desires to
Mistress Anne Page. I pray you, be gone: I will
make an end of my dinner; there's pippins and cheese to come.

Doctor Caius. Come at my heels, Jack Rugby.

Sir Hugh 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?

Simple. Marry, sir, the pittie-ward, the park-ward, every
way; old Windsor way, and every way but the town
way.

Sir Hugh Evans. I most fehemently desire you you will also look that
way.

Simple. I will, sir.

Sir Hugh 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
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 &c.

Simple. Yonder he is coming, this way, Sir Hugh.

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.

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

Page. 'Save you, good Sir Hugh!

Sir Hugh Evans. 'Pless you from his mercy sake, all of you!

Page. And youthful still! in your doublet and hose this
raw rheumatic day!

Sir Hugh Evans. There is reasons and causes for it.

Page. We are come to you to do a good office, master parson.

Sir Hugh Evans. Fery well: what is it?

Robert 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.

Sir Hugh Evans. What is he?

Page. I think you know him; Master Doctor Caius, the
renowned French physician.

Sir Hugh 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?

Sir Hugh 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.

Doctor Caius. I pray you, let-a me speak a word with your ear.
Vherefore vill you not meet-a me?

Sir Hugh Evans. [Aside to DOCTOR CAIUS] Pray you, use your patience:
in good time.

Doctor Caius. By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog, John ape.

Sir Hugh Evans. [Aside to DOCTOR 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 cockscomb
for missing your meetings and appointments.

Doctor 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?

Sir Hugh 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.

Doctor Caius. Ha, do I perceive dat? have you make-a de sot of
us, ha, ha?

Sir Hugh 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.

Doctor Caius. By gar, with all my heart. He promise to bring me
where is Anne Page; by gar, he deceive me too.

Sir Hugh Evans. Well, I will smite his noddles. Pray you, follow.

Ford. True, Master Page. Up, gentlemen: you shall see
sport anon: follow me, gentlemen.

Sir Hugh Evans. This is fery fantastical humours and jealousies.

Ford. Ay, ay; I must bear it.

Sir Hugh Evans. If there be any pody in the house, and in the
chambers, and in the coffers, and in the presses,
heaven forgive my sins at the day of judgment!

Ford. 'Tis my fault, Master Page: I suffer for it.

Sir Hugh Evans. You suffer for a pad conscience: your wife is as
honest a 'omans as I will desires among five
thousand, and five hundred too.

Ford. Any thing.

Sir Hugh Evans. If there is one, I shall make two in the company.

Ford. Pray you, go, Master Page.

Sir Hugh Evans. I pray you now, remembrance tomorrow on the lousy
knave, mine host.

Doctor Caius. Dat is good; by gar, with all my heart!

Sir Hugh Evans. A lousy knave, to have his gibes and his mockeries!

Mistress Page. I'll be with her by and by; I'll but bring my young
man here to school. Look, where his master comes;
'tis a playing-day, I see.
[Enter SIR HUGH EVANS]
How now, Sir Hugh! no school to-day?

Sir Hugh Evans. No; Master Slender is let the boys leave to play.

Mistress Page. Sir Hugh, my husband says my son profits nothing in
the world at his book. I pray you, ask him some
questions in his accidence.

Sir Hugh Evans. Come hither, William; hold up your head; come.

Mistress Page. Come on, sirrah; hold up your head; answer your
master, be not afraid.

Sir Hugh Evans. William, how many numbers is in nouns?

Mistress Quickly. Truly, I thought there had been one number more,
because they say, 'Od's nouns.'

Sir Hugh Evans. Peace your tattlings! What is 'fair,' William?

Mistress Quickly. Polecats! there are fairer things than polecats, sure.

Sir Hugh Evans. You are a very simplicity 'oman: I pray you peace.
What is 'lapis,' William?

William Page. A stone.

Sir Hugh Evans. And what is 'a stone,' William?

William Page. A pebble.

Sir Hugh Evans. No, it is 'lapis:' I pray you, remember in your prain.

William Page. Lapis.

Sir Hugh Evans. That is a good William. What is he, William, that
does lend articles?

William Page. Articles are borrowed of the pronoun, and be thus
declined, Singulariter, nominativo, hic, haec, hoc.

Sir Hugh Evans. Nominativo, hig, hag, hog; pray you, mark:
genitivo, hujus. Well, what is your accusative case?

William Page. Accusativo, hinc.

Sir Hugh Evans. I pray you, have your remembrance, child,
accusative, hung, hang, hog.

Mistress Quickly. 'Hang-hog' is Latin for bacon, I warrant you.

Sir Hugh Evans. Leave your prabbles, 'oman. What is the focative
case, William?

William Page. O,--vocativo, O.

Sir Hugh Evans. Remember, William; focative is caret.

Mistress Quickly. And that's a good root.

Sir Hugh Evans. 'Oman, forbear.

Mistress Page. Peace!

Sir Hugh Evans. What is your genitive case plural, William?

William Page. Genitive case!

Sir Hugh Evans. Ay.

Mistress Quickly. Vengeance of Jenny's case! fie on her! never name
her, child, if she be a whore.

Sir Hugh Evans. For shame, 'oman.

Mistress Quickly. You do ill to teach the child such words: he
teaches him to hick and to hack, which they'll do
fast enough of themselves, and to call 'horum:' fie upon you!

Sir Hugh Evans. 'Oman, art thou lunatics? hast thou no
understandings for thy cases and the numbers of the
genders? Thou art as foolish Christian creatures as
I would desires.

Mistress Page. Prithee, hold thy peace.

Sir Hugh Evans. Show me now, William, some declensions of your pronouns.

William Page. Forsooth, I have forgot.

Sir Hugh Evans. It is qui, quae, quod: if you forget your 'quies,'
your 'quaes,' and your 'quods,' you must be
preeches. Go your ways, and play; go.

Mistress Page. He is a better scholar than I thought he was.

Sir Hugh Evans. He is a good sprag memory. Farewell, Mistress Page.

Page. Why, this passes, Master Ford; you are not to go
loose any longer; you must be pinioned.

Sir Hugh Evans. Why, this is lunatics! this is mad as a mad dog!

Ford. I shall find you anon.

Sir Hugh Evans. 'Tis unreasonable! Will you take up your wife's
clothes? Come away.

Robert Shallow. By my fidelity, this is not well, Master Ford; this
wrongs you.

Sir Hugh Evans. Master Ford, you must pray, and not follow the
imaginations of your own heart: this is jealousies.

Ford. Hang her, witch!

Sir Hugh Evans. By the yea and no, I think the 'oman is a witch
indeed: I like not when a 'oman has a great peard;
I spy a great peard under his muffler.

Host. They shall have my horses; but I'll make them pay;
I'll sauce them: they have had my house a week at
command; I have turned away my other guests: they
must come off; I'll sauce them. Come.

Sir Hugh Evans. 'Tis one of the best discretions of a 'oman as ever
I did look upon.

Page. How? to send him word they'll meet him in the park
at midnight? Fie, fie! he'll never come.

Sir Hugh Evans. You say he has been thrown in the rivers and has
been grievously peaten as an old 'oman: methinks
there should be terrors in him that he should not
come; methinks his flesh is punished, he shall have
no desires.

Ford. The children must
Be practised well to this, or they'll ne'er do't.

Sir Hugh Evans. I will teach the children their behaviors; and I
will be like a jack-an-apes also, to burn the
knight with my taber.

Mistress Page. Fear not you that. Go get us properties
And tricking for our fairies.

Sir Hugh Evans. Let us about it: it is admirable pleasures and fery
honest knaveries.

Host. They are gone but to meet the duke, villain: do not
say they be fled; Germans are honest men.

Sir Hugh Evans. Where is mine host?

Host. What is the matter, sir?

Sir Hugh Evans. Have a care of your entertainments: there is a
friend of mine come to town tells me there is three
cozen-germans that has cozened all the hosts of
Readins, of Maidenhead, of Colebrook, of horses and
money. I tell you for good will, look you: you
are wise and full of gibes and vlouting-stocks, and
'tis not convenient you should be cozened. Fare you well.

Mistress Ford. The hour draws on. To the oak, to the oak!

Sir Hugh Evans. Trib, trib, fairies; come; and remember your parts:
be pold, I pray you; follow me into the pit; and
when I give the watch-'ords, do as I pid you:
come, come; trib, trib.

Falstaff. They are fairies; he that speaks to them shall die:
I'll wink and couch: no man their works must eye.

Sir Hugh Evans. Where's Bede? Go you, and where you find a maid
That, ere she sleep, has thrice her prayers said,
Raise up the organs of her fantasy;
Sleep she as sound as careless infancy:
But those as sleep and think not on their sins,
Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides and shins.

Mistress Quickly. About, about;
Search Windsor Castle, elves, within and out:
Strew good luck, ouphes, on every sacred room:
That it may stand till the perpetual doom,
In state as wholesome as in state 'tis fit,
Worthy the owner, and the owner it.
The several chairs of order look you scour
With juice of balm and every precious flower:
Each fair instalment, coat, and several crest,
With loyal blazon, evermore be blest!
And nightly, meadow-fairies, look you sing,
Like to the Garter's compass, in a ring:
The expressure that it bears, green let it be,
More fertile-fresh than all the field to see;
And 'Honi soit qui mal y pense' write
In emerald tufts, flowers purple, blue and white;
Let sapphire, pearl and rich embroidery,
Buckled below fair knighthood's bending knee:
Fairies use flowers for their charactery.
Away; disperse: but till 'tis one o'clock,
Our dance of custom round about the oak
Of Herne the hunter, let us not forget.

Sir Hugh Evans. Pray you, lock hand in hand; yourselves in order set
And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be,
To guide our measure round about the tree.
But, stay; I smell a man of middle-earth.

Pistol. A trial, come.

Sir Hugh Evans. Come, will this wood take fire?

Falstaff. And these are not fairies? I was three or four
times in the thought they were not fairies: and yet
the guiltiness of my mind, the sudden surprise of my
powers, drove the grossness of the foppery into a
received belief, in despite of the teeth of all
rhyme and reason, that they were fairies. See now
how wit may be made a Jack-a-Lent, when 'tis upon
ill employment!

Sir Hugh Evans. Sir John Falstaff, serve Got, and leave your
desires, and fairies will not pinse you.

Ford. Well said, fairy Hugh.

Sir Hugh Evans. And leave your jealousies too, I pray you.

Falstaff. Have I laid my brain in the sun and dried it, that
it wants matter to prevent so gross o'erreaching as
this? Am I ridden with a Welsh goat too? shall I
have a coxcomb of frize? 'Tis time I were choked
with a piece of toasted cheese.

Sir Hugh Evans. Seese is not good to give putter; your belly is all putter.

Ford. And as wicked as his wife?

Sir Hugh Evans. And given to fornications, and to taverns and sack
and wine and metheglins, and to drinkings and
swearings and starings, pribbles and prabbles?