Читать книгу The Complete Works of Shakespeare онлайн

695 страница из 942

Mrs. Ford. Nay, good, sweet husband! Good gentlemen, let him [not] strike the old woman.

[Enter Falstaff disguised like an old woman, and Mistress Page with him.]

Mrs. Page. Come, Mother Prat, come give me your hand.

Ford. I’ll prat her. Out of my door, you witch, you rag, you baggage, you poulcat, you runnion! out, out! I’ll conjure you, I’ll fortune-tell you!

[Ford beats him, and he runs away.]

Mrs. Page. Are you not asham’d? I think you have kill’d 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 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 humor a little further. Come, gentlemen.

[Exeunt Ford, Page, Shallow, Caius, and Evans.]

Mrs. Page. Trust me, he beat him most pitifully.