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 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 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, 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 Qu.

Mrs. Page.

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

Mrs. Ford.

Go to then; we'll use this unwholesome Humidity, this gross watry Pumpion, we'll teach him to know Turtles from Jays.

Fal.

Have I caught thee, my heav'nly Jewel? Why, now let me die; for I have liv'd long enough: This is the Period of my Ambition; O this blessed Hour!

Mrs. Ford.

O sweet Sir John.

Fal.

Mistress Ford, I cannot cog, I cannot prate, Mistress Ford: Now shall I sin in my Wish. I would thy Husband were dead, I'll speak it before the best Lord, I would make thee my Lady.

Mrs. Ford.

I your Lady, Sir John? Alas, I should be a pitiful Lady.

Fal.

Let the Court of France shew me such another; I see how thine Eye would emulate the Diamond: Thou hast the right arched-beauty of the Brow, that becomes the Ship-Tire, the Tire-Valiant, or any Tire of Venetian Admittance.

Mrs. Ford.
A plain Kerchiffe, Sir John:
My Brows become nothing else, nor that well neither.

Fal.

Thou art a Tyrant to say so; thou wouldst make an absolute Courtier, and the firm fixure of thy Foot would give an excellent Motion to thy Gate, in a semicircled Farthingale. I see what thou wert, if Fortune thy Foe were not, Nature thy Friend: Come, thou canst not hide it.

Mrs. Ford.

Believe me, there's no such thing in me.

Fal.

What made me love thee? Let that persuade thee. There's something extraordinary in thee. Come, I cannot cog, and say, thou art this and that, like a many of these

lisping Haw-thorn Buds, that come like Women in Mens Apparel, and smell like Bucklers-Berry in simpling-time: I cannot; but I love thee, none but thee; and thou deservest it.

Mrs. Ford.

Do not betray me, Sir; I fear you love Mistress Page.

Fal.

Thou might'st as well say, I love to walk by the Counter-Gate, which is as hateful to me as the reek of a Lime-kiln.

Mrs. Ford.

Well, Heav'n knows how I love you, and you shall one day find it.

Fal.

Keep in that Mind; I'll deserve it.

Mrs. Ford.

Nay, I must tell you, so you do; or else I could not be in that Mind.

Rob. [Within.]

Mistress Ford, Mistress Ford, here's Mistress Page at the Door, sweating, and blowing, and looking wildly, and would needs speak with you presently.

Fal.

She shall not see me; I will ensconce me behind the Arras.

Mrs. Ford.
Pray you do so; she's a very tatling Woman. Enter Mistress Page.
What's the matter? How now?

Mrs. Page.
O Mistress Ford, what have you done?
You're sham'd, y'are overthrown, y'are undone for ever.

Mrs. Ford.

What's the Matter, good Mistress Page?

Mrs. Page.

O well-a-day, Mistress Ford, having an honest Man to your Husband, to give him such cause of Suspicion.

Mrs. Ford.

What cause of Suspicion?

Mrs. Page.

What cause of Suspicion? Out upon you; how am I mistook in you?

Mrs. Ford.

Why, alas! what's the Matter?

Mrs. Page.

Your Husband's coming hither, Woman, with all the Officers in Windsor, to search for a Gentleman that he says is here now in the House, by your Consent, to take an ill Advantage of his Absence. You are undone.

Mrs. Ford.

'Tis not so, I hope.

Mrs. Page.

Pray Heav'nit be not so, that you have such a Man here; but 'tis most certain your Husband's coming with half Windsor at his Heels, to search for such a one. I

come before to tell you; if you know your self clear, why, I am glad of it; but if you have a Friend here, convey, convey him out. Be not amaz'd, call all your Senses to you, defend your Reputation, or bid farewel to your good Life for ever.

Mrs. Ford.

What shall I do? there is a Gentleman, my dear Friend; and I fear not my own Shame so much as his Peril. I had rather than a thousand Pound he were out of the House.

Mrs. Page.

For shame, never stand, you had rather, and you had rather; your Husband's here at hand, bethink you of some Conveyance; in the House you cannot hide him. Oh, how have you deceiv'd me? Look, here is a Basket, if he be of any reasonable Stature, he may creep in here, and throw foul Linnen upon him, as if it were going to Bucking: Or it is whiting time, send him by your two Men to Datchet-Mead.

Mrs. Ford.

He's too big to go in there: What shall I do?

Fal.

Let me see't, let me see't, O let me see't; I'll in, I'll in; follow your Friend's Counsel; I'll in.

Mrs. Page.

What, Sir John Falstaff, are these your Letters, Knight?

Fal.

I love thee, help me away; let me creep in here: I'll never—

Mrs. Page.

Help to cover your Master, Boy: Call your Men, Mistress Ford. You dissembling Knight.

Mrs. Ford.

What, John, Robert, John, go take up these Cloaths here, quickly. Where's the Cowl-staff? Look how you drumble: Carry them to the Landress in Datchet-Mead; quickly, come.