MISTRESS FORD
Nay, good, sweet husband! Good gentlemen, let him
not strike the old woman.
Re-enter FALSTAFF in woman's clothes, and MISTRESS PAGE
MISTRESS PAGE
Come, Mother Prat; come, give me your hand.
FORD
I'll prat her.
Beating him
Out of my door, you witch, you hag, you baggage, you
polecat, you runyon! out, out! I'll conjure you,
I'll fortune-tell you.
Exit FALSTAFF
MISTRESS PAGE
Are you not ashamed? I think you have killed the
poor woman.
MISTRESS FORD
Nay, he will do it. 'Tis a goodly credit for you.
FORD
Hang her, witch!
SIR HUGH EVANS
By the yea and no, I think the 'oman is a witch
indeed: I like not when a 'oman has a great peard;
I spy a great peard under his muffler.
FORD
Will you follow, gentlemen? I beseech you, follow;
see but the issue of my jealousy: if I cry out thus
upon no trail, never trust me when I open again.
PAGE
Let's obey his humour a little further: come,
gentlemen.
Exeunt FORD, PAGE, SHALLOW, DOCTOR CAIUS, and SIR HUGH EVANS
MISTRESS PAGE
Trust me, he beat him most pitifully.
MISTRESS FORD
Nay, by the mass, that he did not; he beat him most
unpitifully, methought.