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Evans. Ay.

Will. [Genitivo,] horum, harum, horum.

Quick. Vengeance of Jinny’s case! Fie on her! never name her, child, if she be a whore.

Evans. For shame, oman.

Quick. You do ill to teach the child such words. He teaches him to ‘hic’ and to ‘hac,’ which they’ll do fast enough of themselves, and to call ‘horum,’—fie upon you!

Evans. Oman, art thou [lunatics]? Hast thou no understandings for thy cases and the numbers of the genders? Thou art as foolish Christian creatures as I would desires.

Mrs. Page. Prithee hold thy peace.

Evans. Show me now, William, some declensions of your pronouns.

Will. Forsooth, I have forgot.

Evans. It is qui, [quae], quod: if you forget your qui’s, your [quae’s], and your quod’s, you must be preeches. Go your ways and play, go.

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

Evans. He is a good sprag memory. Farewell, Mistress Page.

Mrs. Page. Adieu, good Sir Hugh. [Exit Evans.] Get you home, boy. Come, we stay too long.

Exeunt.

¶

Enter Falstaff, Mistress Ford.