had not been i' the church, I would have swinged him, or he should have swinged me. If I did not think it had been Anne Page, would I might never stir!--and 'tis a postmaster's boy. Upon my life, then, you took the wrong. What need you tell me that? I think so, when I took a boy for a girl. If I had been married to him, for all he was in woman's apparel, I would not have had him. Why, this is your own folly. Did not I tell you how you should know my daughter by her garments? I went to her in white, and cried 'mum,' and she cried 'budget,' as Anne and I had appointed; and yet it was not Anne, but a postmaster's boy. Good George, be not angry: I knew of your purpose; turned my daughter into green; and, indeed, she is now with the doctor at the deanery, and there married. Vere is Mistress Page? By gar, I am cozened: I ha' married un garcon, a boy; un paysan, by gar, a boy; it is not Anne Page: by gar, I am cozened. Why, did you take her in green? Ay, by gar, and 'tis a boy: by gar, I'll raise all Windsor. This is strange. Who hath got the right Anne? My heart misgives me: here comes Master Fenton. How now, Master Fenton! Pardon, good father! good my mother, pardon! Now, mistress, how chance you went not with Master Slender? Why went you not with master doctor, maid? You do amaze her: hear the truth of it. You would have married 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 dissolve us. The offence is holy that she hath committed; And this deceit loses the name of craft, Of disobedience, or unduteous title, Since therein she doth evitate and shun A thousand irreligious cursed hours, Which forced marriage would have brought upon her. Stand not amazed; here is no remedy: In love the heavens themselves do guide the state; Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate. I am glad, though you have ta'en a special stand to strike at me, that your arrow hath glanced. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven give thee joy! What cannot be eschew'd must be embraced. When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer are chased. Well, I will muse no further. Master Fenton, Heaven give you many