Slen.

What hoe! hoe! father Page!

Page.

Son, how now? how now son, have you dispatch'd?

Slen.

Dispatch'd? I'll make the best in Gloucestershire know on't; would I were hang'd la, else.

Page.

Of what, son?

Slen.

I came yonder at Eaton to marry mistress Anne Page, and she's a great lubberly boy. If it had not been i'th' church, I would have swing'd him, or he should have swing'd me. If I did not think it had been Anne Page, would I might never stir, and 'tis a post-master's boy.

Page.

Upon my life then you took the wrong.

Slen.

What need you tell me that? I think so, when I took a boy for a girl: if I had been marry'd to him, for all he was in woman's apparel, I would not have had him.

Page.

Why this is your own folly. Did not I tell you how you should know my daughter by her garments?

Slen.

I went to her in white and cry'd mum, and she cry'd budget, as Anne and I had appointed, and yet it was not Anne, but a post-master's boy.

Mrs. Page.

Good George be not angry; I knew of your purpose, turn'd my daughter into green, and indeed she is now with the Doctor at the Deanery, and there marry'd.

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