Mrs. Ford.

What, John! what, Robert!

Mrs. Page.

Quickly, quickly: is the buck-basket—

Mrs. Ford.

I warrant.—What, Robin, I say.

Mrs. Page.

Come, come, come.

Mrs. Ford.

Here, set it down.

Mrs. Page.

Give your men the charge, we must be brief.

Mrs. Ford.

Marry, as I told you before, John and Robert, be ready here hard by in the brew-house, and when I suddenly call on you, come forth, and without

any pause or staggering take this basket on your shoulders; that done, trudge with it in all haste, and carry it among the whitsters in Datchet-Mead, and there empty it in the muddy ditch close by the old Thames side.

Mrs. Page.

You will do it?

Mrs. Ford.

I ha' told them over and over; they lack no direction. Be gone, and come when you are call'd.

Mrs. Page.

Here comes little Robin.

Mrs. Ford.

How now, my Eyas-musket,^{7 note} what news with you?

Rob.

My master Sir John is come in at your back-door, mistress Ford, and requests your company.

Mrs. Page.

You little Jack-a-lent, have you been true to us?

Rob.

Ay, I'll be sworn; my master knows not of your being here, and hath threaten'd to put me into everlasting liberty, if I tell you of it; for he swears, he'll turn me away.

Mrs. Page.

Thou'rt a good boy; this secrecy of thine shall be a tailor to thee, and shall make thee a new doublet and hose. I'll go hide me.

Mrs. Ford.

Do so; go tell thy master, I am alone; mistress Page, remember you your cue.

Mrs. Page.

I warrant thee; if I do not act it, hiss me.

Mrs. Ford.

Go to then; we'll use this unwholsome humidity, this gross watry pumpion—we'll teach him to know turtles from jays.