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_Mrs Page._ Hang him, dishonest varlet! we cannot misuse him enough.
We'll leave a proof, by that which we will do, 90 Wives may be merry, and yet honest too: We do not act that often jest and laugh; 'Tis old, but true,--Still swine eat all the draff. [_Exit._
_Re-enter MISTRESS FORD with two SERVANTS._
_Mrs Ford._ Go, sirs, take the basket again on your shoulders: your master is hard at door; if he bid you set it 95 down, obey him: quickly, dispatch. [_Exit._
_First Serv._ Come, come, take it up.
_Sec. Serv._ Pray heaven it be not full of knight again.
_First Serv._ I hope not; I had as lief bear so much lead.
_Enter FORD, PAGE, SHALLOW, CAIUS, and SIR HUGH EVANS._
_Ford._ Ay, but if it prove true, Master Page, have you 100 any way then to unfool me again? Set down the basket, villain! Somebody call my wife. Youth in a basket!--O you panderly rascals! there's a knot, a ging, a pack, a conspiracy against me: now shall the devil be shamed. --What, wife, I say!--Come, come forth! Behold what honest 105 clothes you send forth to bleaching!
_Page._ Why, this pa.s.ses, Master Ford; you are not to go loose any longer; you must be pinioned.
_Evans._ Why, this is lunatics! this is mad as a mad dog! 110
_Shal._ Indeed, Master Ford, this is not well, indeed.
_Ford._ So say I too, sir.
_Re-enter MISTRESS FORD._
Come hither, Mistress Ford; Mistress Ford, the honest woman, the modest wife, the virtuous creature, that hath the jealous fool to her husband! I suspect without cause, mistress, 115 do I?
_Mrs Ford._ Heaven be my witness you do, if you suspect me in any dishonesty.
_Ford._ Well said, brazen-face! hold it out. Come forth, sirrah! [_Pulling clothes out of the basket._ 120
_Page._ This pa.s.ses!
_Mrs Ford._ Are you not ashamed? let the clothes alone.
_Ford._ I shall find you anon.
_Evans._ 'Tis unreasonable! Will you take up your wife's clothes? Come away. 125
_Ford._ Empty the basket, I say!
_Mrs Ford._ Why, man, why?
_Ford._ Master Page, as I am a man, there was one conveyed out of my house yesterday in this basket: why may not he be there again? In my house I am sure he is: my 130 intelligence is true; my jealousy 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. 135
_Shal._ By my fidelity, this is not well, Master Ford; this wrongs you.
_Evans._ Master Ford, you must pray, and not follow the imaginations of your own heart: this is jealousies.
_Ford._ Well, he's not here I seek for. 140
_Page._ No, nor nowhere else but in your brain.
_Ford._ Help to search my house this one time. If I find not what I seek, show no colour for my extremity; let me for ever be your table-sport; let them say of me, 'As jealous as Ford, that searched a hollow walnut for his wife's 145 leman.' Satisfy me once more; once more search with me.
_Mrs Ford._ What, ho, Mistress 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 Brentford. 150
_Ford._ A witch, a quean, an old cozening quean! Have I not forbid her my house? She comes of errands, does she? We are simple men; we do not know what's brought to pa.s.s under the profession of fortune-telling. She works by charms, by spells, by the figure, and such daubery as 155 this is, beyond our element: we know nothing. Come down, you witch, you hag, you; come down, I say!
_Mrs Ford._ Nay, good, sweet husband!--Good gentlemen, let him not strike the old woman.
_Re-enter FALSTAFF in woman's clothes, and MISTRESS PAGE._
_Mrs Page._ Come, Mother Prat; come, give me your 160 hand.
_Ford._ I'll prat her. [_Beating him_] Out of my door, you witch, you hag, you baggage, you polecat, you ronyon!
out, out! I'll conjure you, I'll fortune-tell you.
[_Exit Falstaff._
_Mrs Page._ Are you not ashamed? I think you have 165 killed the poor woman.
_Mrs Ford._ Nay, he will do it. 'Tis a goodly credit for you.
_Ford._ Hang her, witch!
_Evans._ By yea and no, I think the 'oman is a witch indeed: 170 I like not when a 'oman has a great peard; I spy a great peard under his m.u.f.fler.
_Ford._ Will you follow, gentlemen? I beseech you, follow; see but the issue of my jealousy: if I cry out thus upon no trail, never trust me when I open again. 175
_Page._ Let's obey his humour a little further: come, gentlemen. [_Exeunt Ford, Page, Shal., Caius, and Evans._
_Mrs Page._ Trust me, he beat him most pitifully.
_Mrs Ford._ Nay, by the ma.s.s, that he did not; he beat him most unpitifully methought. 180
_Mrs Page._ I'll have the cudgel hallowed and hung o'er the altar; it hath done meritorious service.
_Mrs Ford._ What think you? may we, with the warrant of womanhood and the witness of a good conscience, pursue him with any further revenge? 185
