Mrs Ford. No, certainly. [Aside to her] Speak louder.
15 Mrs Page. Truly, I am so glad you have nobody here.
Mrs Ford. Why?
Mrs Page. Why, woman, your husband is in his old [lunes] again: he so takes on yonder with my husband; so rails against all married mankind; so curses all Eve’s 20 daughters, of what complexion soever; and so buffets himself on the forehead, crying, ‘Peer out, peer out!’ that any madness I ever yet beheld seemed but tameness, civility, and patience, to this his distemper he is in now: I am glad the fat knight is not here.
IV. 2.
25 Mrs Ford. Why, does he talk of him?
Mrs Page. Of none but him; and swears he was carried out, the last time he searched for him, in a basket; protests to my husband he is now here; and hath drawn him and the rest of their company from their sport, to make 30 another experiment of his suspicion: but I am glad the knight is not here; now he shall see his own foolery.
Mrs Ford. How near is he, Mistress Page?
Mrs Page. Hard by; at [street] end; he will be here anon.
Mrs Ford. I am undone!—the knight is here.
35 Mrs Page. Why, then, you are utterly shamed, and he’s but a dead man. What a woman are you!—Away with him, away with him! better shame than murder.