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Mrs. Page. Quick, quick! we’ll come dress you straight. Put on the gown the while.

[Exit Falstaff.]

Mrs. Ford. I would my husband would meet him in this shape. He cannot abide the old woman of Brainford. He swears she’s a witch, forbade her my house, and hath threat’ned to beat her.

Mrs. Page. Heaven guide him to thy husband’s cudgel; and the devil guide his cudgel afterwards!

Mrs. Ford. But is my husband coming?

Mrs. Page. Ay, in good sadness, is he, and talks of the basket too, howsoever 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 last time.

Mrs. Page. Nay, but he’ll be here presently. Let’s go dress him like the witch of Brainford.

Mrs. Ford. I’ll first direct my men what they shall do with the basket. Go up, I’ll bring linen for him straight.

[Exit.]

Mrs. Page.

Hang him, dishonest varlet! we cannot misuse [him] enough.

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

Wives may be merry, and yet honest too: