The Merry Wives of Windsor By William Shakespeare Act III: Scene 3

PAGE.
Good Master Ford, be contented: you wrong yourself
too much.

FORD.
True, Master Page. Up, gentlemen, you shall see sport anon; follow
me, gentlemen.

[Exit.]

EVANS.
This is fery fantastical humours and jealousies.

CAIUS.
By gar, 'tis no the fashion of France; it is not jealous in France.

PAGE.
Nay, follow him, gentlemen; see the issue of his search.

[Exeunt EVANS, PAGE, and CAIUS.]

MRS. PAGE.
Is there not a double excellency in this?

MRS. FORD.
I know not which pleases me better, that my husband is deceived, or
Sir John.

MRS. PAGE.
What a taking was he in when your husband asked who was in the basket!

MRS. FORD.
I am half afraid he will have need of washing; so throwing him into
the water will do him a benefit.

MRS. PAGE.
Hang him, dishonest rascal! I would all of the same strain were in
the same distress.

MRS. FORD.
I think my husband hath some special suspicion of Falstaff's being
here, for I never saw him so gross in his jealousy till now.

MRS. PAGE.
I will lay a plot to try that, and we will yet have more tricks
with Falstaff: his dissolute disease will scarce obey this medicine.

MRS. FORD.
Shall we send that foolish carrion, Mistress Quickly, to him, and
excuse his throwing into the water, and give him another hope, to
betray him to another punishment?

MRS. PAGE.
We will do it; let him be sent for to-morrow eight o'clock, to
have amends.

[Re-enter FORD, PAGE, CAIUS, and SIR HUGH EVANS.]

FORD.
I cannot find him: may be the knave bragged of that he could not
compass.

MRS. PAGE.
[Aside to MRS. FORD.] Heard you that?

MRS. FORD.
[Aside to MRS. PAGE.] Ay, ay, peace. —
You use me well, Master Ford, do you?

FORD.
Ay, I do so.

MRS. FORD.
Heaven make you better than your thoughts!

FORD.
Amen!

MRS. PAGE.
You do yourself mighty wrong, Master Ford.

FORD.
Ay, ay; I must bear it.

EVANS.
If there be any pody in the house, and in the chambers, and in the
coffers, and in the presses, heaven forgive my sins at the day of
judgment!

CAIUS.
Be gar, nor I too; there is no bodies.

PAGE.
Fie, fie, Master Ford, are you not ashamed? What spirit, what devil
suggests this imagination? I would not ha' your distemper in this
kind for the wealth of Windsor Castle.

FORD.
'Tis my fault, Master Page: I suffer for it.

EVANS.
You suffer for a pad conscience. Your wife is as honest a 'omans as
I will desires among five thousand, and five hundred too.

CAIUS.
By gar, I see 'tis an honest woman.

FORD.
Well, I promised you a dinner. Come, come, walk in the Park: I pray
you pardon me; I will hereafter make known to you why I have done
this. Come, wife, come, Mistress Page; I pray you pardon me; pray
heartily, pardon me.

PAGE.
Let's go in, gentlemen; but, trust me, we'll mock him. I do invite
you to-morrow morning to my house to breakfast; after, we'll
a-birding together; I have a fine hawk for the bush. Shall it be so?

FORD.
Any thing.

EVANS.
If there is one, I shall make two in the company.

CAIUS.
If there be one or two, I shall make-a the turd.

FORD.
Pray you go, Master Page.

EVANS.
I pray you now, remembrance to-morrow on the lousy knave, mine host.

CAIUS.
Dat is good; by gar, with all my heart.

EVANS.
A lousy knave! to have his gibes and his mockeries!

[Exeunt.]

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