The Merry Wives of Windsor
Page: 42

in the simple office of loue, but in all the accustrement,
complement, and ceremony of it: But are you sure of
your husband now?
Mis.Ford. Hee's a birding (sweet Sir Iohn.)
Mis.Page. What hoa, gossip Ford: what hoa

Mis.Ford. Step into th' chamber, Sir Iohn

Mis.Page. How now (sweete heart) whose at home
besides your selfe?
Mis.Ford. Why none but mine owne people

Mis.Page. Indeed?
Mis.Ford. No certainly: Speake louder

Mist.Pag. Truly, I am so glad you haue no body here

Mist.Ford. Why?
Mis.Page. Why woman, your husband is in his olde
lines againe: he so takes on yonder with my husband, so
railes against all married mankinde; so curses all Eues
daughters, of what complexion soeuer; and so buffettes
himselfe on the for-head: crying peere-out, peere-out,
that any madnesse I euer yet beheld, seem'd but tamenesse,
ciuility, and patience to this his distemper he is in
now: I am glad the fat Knight is not heere

Mist.Ford. Why, do's he talke of him?
Mist.Page. Of none but him, and sweares he was caried
out the last time hee search'd for him, in a Basket:
Protests to my husband he is now heere, & hath drawne
him and the rest of their company from their sport, to
make another experiment of his suspition: But I am glad
the Knight is not heere; now he shall see his owne foolerie

Mist.Ford. How neere is he Mistris Page?
Mist.Pag. Hard by, at street end; he wil be here anon

Mist.Ford. I am vndone, the Knight is heere

Mist.Page. Why then you are vtterly sham'd, & hee's
but a dead man. What a woman are you? Away with
him, away with him: Better shame, then murther

Mist.Ford. Which way should he go? How should I
bestow him? Shall I put him into the basket againe?
Fal. No, Ile come no more i'th Basket:
May I not go out ere he come?
Mist.Page. Alas: three of Mr. Fords brothers watch
the doore with Pistols, that none shall issue out: otherwise
you might slip away ere hee came: But what make
you heere?
Fal. What shall I do? Ile creepe vp into the chimney

Mist.Ford. There they alwaies vse to discharge their
Birding-peeces: creepe into the Kill-hole