comes; 'tis a playing-day, I fee. How now, Sir Hugh, no fchool to-day?

Enter Evans.

Eva. No; mafter Slender is let the boys leave to play.

Quic. Bleffing of his heart.

Mrs. Page. Sir Hugh, my hufband fays, my fon profits nothing in the world at his book; I pray you, afk him fome questions in his accidence.

Eva. Come hither, William; hold up your head,

come.

Mrs. Page. Come on, Sirrah, hold up your head; anfwer your mafter, be not afraid.

Era. William, how many numbers is in nouns ?
Will. Two.

Quic. Truly, I thought there had been one number more, because they fay od's nouns.

Eva. Peace your tatlings. What is, Fair, William? Will. Pulcher.

Quic. Poulcats there are fairer things than poulcats, fure.

Eva. You are a very fimplicity o'man; I pray you, peace. What is, Lapis, William?

Will. A ftone.

Eva. And what is a stone, William?

Will. A pebble.

Eva. No, it is Lapis: I pray you, remember in your prain.

Will. Lapis.

Eva. That is a good William: what is he, William, that does lend articles?

Will. Articles are borrow'd of the pronoun, and be thus declin'd, fingulariter nominativo, hic, hæc, hoc.

Eva. Nominativo, big, bag, bog; pray you, mark : genitivo, hujus: well, what is your accufative cafe? Will. Accufative, hinc.

Eva. I pray you have your remembrance, child; acculative, hung bang, kog.

Quit. Hang hog is Latin for bacon, I warrant you.

Eva. Leave your prabbles, o'man. focative cafe, William?

Will. O, vocativo, O.

What is the

Eva. Remember, William, focative is caret.

Quic. And that's a good root.

Eva. O'man, forbear.

Mrs. Page. Peace

Eva. What is your genitive cafe plural, William ?
Will. Genitive cafe?

Eva. Ay.

Will Genitive, horum, harum, horum.

Quic. 'Vengeance of Ginyes cafe; fy on her; never name her, child, if fhe be a whore.

Eva. For fhame, o'man.

Quic. You do ill to teach the child fuch words: he teaches him to hick and to hack, which they'll do fast enough of themfelves; and to call horum; fy upon you!

Eva. O'man, art thou lunacies ? haft thou no underftandings for thy cafes, and the numbers of the genders? thou art as foolish chriftian creatures, as I would defire. Mrs. Page. Pr'ythee, hold thy peace.

Eva. Shew me now, William, fome declenfions of your pronouns.

Will. Forfooth, I have forgot.

Eva. It is, qui, quæ, quod; if you forget your quies, your quas, and your quods, you must be preeches: go your ways and play, go.

Mrs. Page. He is a better scholar, than I thought he

was.

Eva. He is a good fprag memory. Farewel, Mrs. Page.

Mrs. Page. Adieu, good Sir Hugh. Get you home, boy. Come, we ftay too long.

Fal.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Ford's House.

M

Enter Falstaff and Mistress Ford.

Iftrefs Ford, your forrow hath eaten up my fufferance; I see you are obfequious in your love, and I profefs requital to a hair's breadth;

not

not only, mistress Ford, in the fimple office of love, but in all the accoutrement, complement, and ceremony of it. But are you fure of your husband now?

Mrs. Ford. He's a birding, fweet Sir John.

Mrs. Page. [within.] What hoa, goffip Ford! what hoa!

Mrs. Ford. Step into th' chamber, Sir John.

Enter Mistress Page.

Exit Falftaff.

Mrs. Page. How now, fweet heart, who's at home befides yourself?

Mrs. Ford. Why none but mine own people.
Mrs. Page. Indeed?

Mrs. Ford. No, certainly-Speak louder. [Afide. Mrs. Page. Truly, I am so glad you have no body here.

Mrs. Ford. Why?

Mrs. Page. Why, woman, your husband is in his old lunes again; he fo takes on yonder with my husband, fo rails against all married mankind, fo curses all Eve's daughters, of what complexion foever, and fo buffets. himself on the forehead, crying, peer-out, peer-out! that any madness I ever yet beheld feem'd but tame. ness, civility, and patience, to this diffemper he is in now I am glad, the fat knight is not here.

Mrs. Ford. Why, does he talk of him?

Mrs. Page. Of none but him? and fwears, he was carry'd out, the laft time he fearch'd for him, in a basket; protests to my husband, he is now here; and hath drawn him and the rest of their company from their sport, to make another experiment of his fufpicion; but I am glad, the Knight is not here; now he fhall fee his own foolery.

Mrs. Ford. How near is he, mistress Page?

Mrs. Page. Hard by, at street's end, he will be here

anon.

Mrs. Ford. I am undone, the Knight is here. Mrs. Page. Why, then thou art utterly fham'd, and he's but a dead man. What a woman are you? away

with him, away with him; better fhame than murder. Mrs. Ford. Which way fhould he go? how fhould İ bestow him? fhall I put him into the basket again?

Enter Falftaff.

Fal. No, I'll come no more i' th' basket: may I not go out, ere he come?

Mrs. Page. Alas! alas! three of mafter Ford's brothers watch the door with piftols, that none should iffue out, otherwise you might flip away ere he came : but what make you here?

Fal. What fhall I do? I'll creep up into the chimney. Mrs. Ford. There they always ufe to discharge their birding-pieces; creep into the kill-hole.

Fal. Where is it?

Mrs. Ford. He will feek there, on my word; neither prefs, coffer, cheft, trunk, well, vault, but he hath an abftract for the remembrance of fuch places, and goes to them by his note; there is no hiding you in the houfe.

Fal. I'll go out then.

Mrs. Ford. If you go out in your own femblance, you die, Sir John, unless you go out difguis'd. How might we difguise him?

Mrs. Page. Alas-the day, I know not; there is no woman's gown big enough for him; otherwife, he might put on a hat, a muffler, and a kerchief, and fo escape.

Fal. Good heart, devise something; any extremity, rather than mischief.

Mrs. Ford. My maid's aunt, the fat woman of Brainford, has a gown above.

Mrs. Page. On my word, it will ferve him; she's as big as he is, and there's her thrumb hat, and her muffler too. Run up, Sir John.

Mrs. Ford. Go, go, fweet Sir John; miftrefs Page and I will look fome linnen for your head.

Mrs. Page. Quick, quick, we'll come drefs you ftraight; put on the gown the while.

[Exit Faiftaff.

Mrs.

Mrs. Ford. I would, my husband would meet him in this shape; he cannot abide the old woman of Brainford; he wears, fhe's a witch, forbade her my house, and hath threatened to beat her.

Mrs. Page. Heav'n guide him to thy hufband's cudgel, and the devil guide his cudgel afterwards!

Mrs. Ford. But is my husband coming?

Mrs. Page. Ay, in good fadaefs is he; and talks of the basket too, however he hath had intelligence.

Mrs. Ford. We'll try that; for I'll appoint my men to carry the basket again, to meet him at the door with it, as they did afl time.

Mrs. Page. Nay, but he'll be here prefently; let's go drefs him like the witch of Brainford.

Mrs. Ford. I'll first direct my men, what they fhalf do with the basket; go up, I'll bring linnen for him fraight.

Mr. Page. Hang him, difhoneft varlet, we cannot mifufe him enough.

We'll leave a proof, by that which we will do,

Wives may be merry, and yet honeft too.

We do not act, that often jeft and laugh:

'Tis old but true, Still fwine eats all the draugh.

Mrs. Ford. Go, Sirs, take the basket again on your fhoulders; your mafter is hard at door; if he bid you fet it down, obey him: quickly, dispatch.

[Exeunt Mrs. Page and Mrs. Ford.

Enter Servants with the basket.

1 Serv. Come, come, take up.

2 Serv. Pray heav'n, it be not full of the Knight again.

1 Serv. I hope not. I had as lief bear fo much lead..

Enter Ford, Shallow, Page, Caius and Evans. Ford. Ay, but if it prove true, mafter Page, have you any way then to unfool me again? fet down the basket, villain; fomebody call my wife: youth in a basket! oh you panderly rafcals, there's a knot, a gang, a pack, a confpiracy, againft me; now fhall the