Scena Secunda.
Enter Falstoffe, Mist.Ford, Mist.Page, Seruants, Ford, Page, Caius, Euans, Shallow.
Fal. Mi[stris]. Ford, Your sorrow hath eaten vp my sufferance; I see you are obsequious in your loue, and I professe requitall to a haires bredth, not onely Mist[ris]. Ford, 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
Fal. Where is it? Mist.Ford. He will seeke there on my word: Neyther Presse, Coffer, Chest, Trunke, Well, Vault, but he hath an abstract for the remembrance of such places, and goes to them by his Note: There is no hiding you in the house
Fal. Ile go out then
Mist.Ford. If you goe out in your owne semblance, you die Sir Iohn, vnlesse you go out disguis'd
Mist.Ford. How might we disguise him? Mist.Page. Alas the day I know not, there is no womans gowne bigge enough for him: otherwise he might put on a hat, a muffler, and a kerchiefe, and so escape
Fal. Good hearts, deuise something: any extremitie, rather then a mischiefe
Mist.Ford. My Maids Aunt the fat woman of Brainford, has a gowne aboue
Mist.Page. On my word it will serue him: shee's as big as he is: and there's her thrum'd hat, and her muffler too: run vp Sir Iohn
Mist.Ford. Go, go, sweet Sir Iohn: Mistris Page and I will looke some linnen for your head