Urs.

And do you think, Bridget, Sir John will at last be as good as his word, then? How sits my ruff to day? I would thou hadst bought me one of those new-fashioned farthingales.

Brid.

O, madam, you are mighty fine, as it is, truly: and, I am sure, Sir John can do nothing less than admire you.

Urs.

Thinkest thou so, Bridget? why, to be certain, a peach-colour'd sattin does become my complexion hugely. But I think the roses are faded in my cheeks. Well, no matter: he might have gather'd them twenty years ago, had not he been a rover. I hope, however, he has sown all his wild oats before now, and that I shall yet have the satisfaction to be call'd my lady Falstaff.

Brid.

To be sure, madam; and tho' Sir John is but a knight at present, he will very assuredly, now the young

king is crown'd, be made a great lord, and may be a duke. Indeed, madam, I cannot think of less.

Urs.

And then shall I be a dutchess, Bridget. Dame Ursula a dutchess!

Brid.

Ay, madam, that will be a day to see; if I am so happy as to be in your grace's favour.

Urs.

For certain, Bridget, thou shalt. Well, I must confess, in spite of my blushes, I do love Sir John Falstaff. How like a scholar and a gentleman he writes.

“To my soul's idol, the mirror of love and constancy.” Constancy! he might well say constancy: for who among the gill-flirts of these days has reserv'd, like myself, the same affection for the same man for twenty years together? It is true, indeed, I have not had any other offer, in the mean time: but that doubtless has been owing to my supposed engagements with Sir John; that frighten'd away all other young cavaliers. Well, this love is a strange thing! there is Sir John has deceiv'd me a thousand times, and yet, I know not how, he always persuaded me he was sincere.

Brid.

A sure sign you lov'd him, madam.

Urs.

And yet, to be sure, before I receiv'd this letter, I thought I never should hear from him again, and had almost come to a resolution to cast him entirely off.

Brid.

In good sooth, madam, and that is very prudent; to cast off a lover when we find he will leave us.

Urs.

I think so, and not a little imprudent to do it before, for one of my years at least.

Brid.

Why, madam, you are not so old.

Urs.

Indeed, but I am—old enough to know I ought not to part with one lover 'till I am sure of another.

Brid.

To be sure, madam, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush; but the sport of hampering the rogues, who are at liberty, is so vastly pretty.

Urs.

Ay, if we were sure of catching them at last: but, Bridget, Bridget, how often do they escape through our fingers and give us the slip! Besides it is for younger lasses than I to go bird-catching.—I cannot throw salt on the tail of a sparrow now.

Brid.

O, madam, we shall see that. Sir John will be here presently.

Urs.

Bless us, Bridget, here he comes. Introduce him and leave us.