MISTRESS PAGE.
He is a better scholar than I thought he was.
EVANS.
He is a good sprag memory. Farewell, Mistress Page.
MISTRESS PAGE.
Adieu, good Sir Hugh.
[Exit Sir Hugh Evans.]
Get you home, boy. Come, we stay too long.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE II. A room in Ford’s house
Enter Falstaff and Mistress Ford.
FALSTAFF.
Mistress Ford, your sorrow hath eaten up my sufferance. I see you are obsequious in your love, and I profess requital to a hair’s breadth, not only, Mistress Ford, in the simple office of love, but in all the accoutrement, compliment, and ceremony of it. But are you sure of your husband now?
MISTRESS FORD.
He’s a-birding, sweet Sir John.