Mrs Page. Ay, in good sadness, is he; and talks of 80 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 85 dress him like the witch of [Brentford].
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.
90 We’ll leave a proof, by that which we will do,
Wives may be merry, and yet honest too:
We do not act that often jest and laugh;
’Tis old, but true,—
Still swine eat all the draff. Exit.