Mrs. Ford. Go, go, fweet Sir John; miftrefs Page and I will look fome linen for your head.

Mrs. Page. Quick, quick, we'll come dress you ftraight; put on the gown the while. [Exit Falftaff.

Mrs. Ford. I would, my husband would meet him in this shape; he cannot abide the old woman of Brainford; he fwears, she's a witch, forbade her my house, and hath threatned to beat her.

Mrs. Page. Heav'n guide him to thy hufband's cudgel, and the devil guide his cudgel afterwards! Mrs. Ford. But is my husband coming?

Mrs. Page. Ay, in good sadness, is he; and talks of the basket too, however he hath had intelligence. Mrs. Ford. We'll try that; for I'll appoint my men to carry the basket again, to meet him at the door with it, as they did last time.

Mrs. Page. Nay, but he'll be here prefently; let's go drefs him like the witch of Brainford.

Mrs. Ford. I'll first direct my men, what they fhall do with the basket. Go up, I'll bring linen for him ftraight.

Mrs. Page. Hang him, dishonest varlet, we cannot mifufe him enough.

We'll leave a proof, by that which we will do,
Wives may be merry, and yet honest too.
We do not act, that often jeft and laugh:
'Tis old but true, Still fwine eat all the draugh.

Mrs. Ford. Go, Sirs, take the basket again on your fhoulders; your mafter is hard at door; if he bid you fet it down, obey him: quickly, dispatch.

[Exeunt Mrs. Page and Mrs. Ford.

Enter Servants with the basket.

1 Serv. Come, come, take up.

2 Serv. Pray heav'n, it be not full of the knight again.

I Serv. I hope not. I had as lief bear so much lead. SCENE

SCENE IV.

Enter Ford, Shallow, Page, Caius and Evans.

Ford. Ay, but if it prove true, mafter Page, have you any way then to unfool me again?-Set down the bafket, villain;-fomebody call my wife-youth. In a basket! oh, you panderly rafcals! there's a knot, a gang, a pack, a confpiracy, against me: now fhall the devil be fham'd. What! wife, I fay; come, come forth, behold what honeft cloaths you fend forth to bleaching.

Page. Why, this paffes, mafter Ford-you are not to go loose any longer, you must be pinnion'd. Eva. Why, this is lunaticks; this is mad as a mad dog.

Enter Mrs. Ford.

Shal. Indeed, mafter Ford, this is not well, indeed. Ford. So fay I too, Sir. Come hither, mistress Ford;-miftrefs Ford, the honeft woman, the modest wife, the virtuous creature, that hath the jealous fool to her husband!-I fufpect without caufe, mistress, do I?

Mrs. Ford. Heav'n be my witnefs, you do, if you fufpect me in any dishonesty.

Ford. Well faid, brazen face; hold it out.-Come forth, Sirrah. [Pulls the cloaths out of the basket.

Page. This paffes

Mrs. Ford. Are you not afham'd? let the cloaths alone.

Ford. I fhall find you anon.

Eva. 'Tis unreasonable; will you take up your wife's cloaths? come away.

Ford. Empty the basket, I say.

Mrs. Ford. Why, man, why-
VOL. II.

M m

Ford.

Ford. Mafter Page, as I am a man, there was one convey'd out of my houfe yesterday in this basket; why may not he be there again? in my houfe I am fure he is; my intelligence is true, my jealoufy is reasonable; pluck me out all the linen.

Mrs. Ford. If you find a man there, he shall die a flea's death.

Page. Here's no man.

Shal. By my fidelity, this is not well, master Ford; this wrongs you 7.

Eva. Mafter Ford, you must pray, and not follow the imaginations of your own heart; this is jealoufies. Ford. Well, he's not here I feek for.

Page. No, nor no where elfe but in your brain.

Ford. Help to fearch my houfe this one time; if I find not what I feek, fhew no colour for my extremity; let me for ever be your table-sport; let them fay of me, As jealous as Ford, that fearch'd a hollow wall-nut for his wife's leman. Satisfy me once more, once more fearch with me.

Mrs. Ford. What hoa, miftrefs Page, come you, and the old woman down; my husband will come into the chamber.

Ford. Old woman; what old woman's that?

Mrs. Ford. Why, it is my maid's aunt of Brainford.

Ford. A witch, a quean, an old cozening quean; have I not forbid her my houfe? fhe comes of errands, does he? we are fimple men, we do not know what's brought to pafs under the profeffion of fortune-telling. She works by charms, by fpells, by th' figure; and fuch dawbry as this is beyond our element; we know

This wrongs you.] This is below your character, unworthy of your understanding, injurious to your honour. So in the Taming of the Shrew, Bianca being

ill treated by her rugged filter, fays,

You wrong me much, indeed you wrong yourself.

nothing.

nothing. Come down, you witch; you hag you, come down, I fay.

Mrs. Ford. Nay, good. fweet husband; good gentlemen, let him not ftrike the old woman.

Enter Falstaff in woman's cloaths, and Mrs. Page. Mrs. Page. Come, mother Prat, come, give me your hand.

s

1

Ford. I'l Prat her. Out of my door, you witch! [Beats him.] you hag, you baggage, you poulcat, you runnion! out, out, out. I'll conjure you, I'll fortune-tell you. [Exit Fal. Mrs. Page. Are you not afham'd? I think, you have kill'd the poor woman.

Mrs. Ford. Nay, he will do it.-'Tis a goodly credit for you.

Ford. Hang her, witch.

Eva. By yea and no, I think, the 'oman is a witch indeed: I like not when a 'oman has a great peard; I fpy a great peard under her muffler 9.

Ford. Will you follow, gentlemen? I beseech you, follow; fee but the iffue of my jealoufy; if I cry out thus upon no trail', never truft me when I open again. Page. Let's obey his humour a little further: come, gentlemen. [Exeunt.

Mrs. Page. Trust me, he beat him most pitifully. Mrs. Ford. Nay, by th' mafs, that he did not; he beat him muft unpitifully, methought.

Mrs. Page. I'll have the cudgel hallow'd and hung o'er the altar; it hath done meritorious fervice.

Mrs. Ford. What think you? may we, with the warrant of woman-hood; and the witness of a good confcience, purfue him with any further revenge?

Mrs, Page. The spirit of wantonness is, fure, scar'd out of him; if the devil have him not in fee-fimple, with fine and recovery, he will never, I think, in the way of wafte, attempt us again.

Mrs. Ford. Shall we tell our husbands how we have ferved him?

Mrs. Page. Yea, by all means; if it be but to fcrape the figures out of your husband's brain. If they can find in their hearts the poor unvirtuous fat knight fhall be any further afflicted, we two will still be the minifters.

Mrs. Ford. I'll warrant, they'll have him publickly fham'd; and, methinks, there would be no period to the jeft, fhould he not be publickly afham'd.

Mrs. Page. Come to the forge with it, then fhape it I would not have things cool.

Bard.

S

SCENE VI.

Changes to the Garter Inn.

Enter Hoft and Bardolph.

[Exeunt.

In, the German defires to have three of your horfes; the Duke himfelf will be tomorrow at court, and they are going to meet him. Hoft. What Duke fhould that be, comes fo fecretly? I hear not of him in the court: let me fpeak with the gentlemen; they fpeak English?

Bard.