ACT IV.
SCENE 2. A room in FORD'S house.
(continued)
FORD.
A witch, a quean, an old cozening quean! Have I not
forbid her my house? She comes of errands, does she? We
are simple men; we do not know what's brought to pass
under the profession of fortune-telling. She works by
charms, by spells, by the figure, and such daubery as this
is, beyond our element. We know nothing. Come down, you
witch, you hag you; come down, I say!
MRS. FORD.
Nay, good sweet husband! Good gentlemen, let
him not strike the old woman.
[Re-enter FALSTAFF in woman's clothes, led by MISTRESS PAGE.]
MRS. PAGE.
Come, Mother Prat; come, give me your hand.
FORD.
I'll prat her.--[Beats him.] Out of my door, you
witch, you rag, you baggage, you polecat, you ronyon!
Out, out! I'll conjure you, I'll fortune-tell you.
[Exit FALSTAFF.]
MRS. PAGE.
Are you not ashamed? I think you have killed the
poor woman.
MRS. FORD.
Nay, he will do it. 'Tis a goodly credit for you.
FORD.
Hang her, witch!
EVANS.
By 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 her 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, CAIUS, and EVANS.]
MRS. PAGE.
Trust me, he beat him most pitifully.
MRS. FORD.
Nay, by the mass, that he did not; he beat him
most unpitifully methought.
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