Ford. Hang her, witch!
170 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 IV. 2.
175 upon no [trail], never trust me when I open again.
Page. Let’s obey his humour a little further: come, gentlemen.
Exeunt Ford, Page, Shal., Caius, and Evans.
Mrs Page. Trust me, he beat him most pitifully.
Mrs Ford. Nay, by the mass, that he did not; he beat 180 him most unpitifully methought.
Mrs Page. I’ll have the cudgel hallowed and hung o’er the altar; it hath done meritorious service.
Mrs Ford. What think you? may we, with the warrant of womanhood and the witness of a good conscience, pursue 185 him with any further revenge?
Mrs Page. The spirit of wantonness is, sure, scared out of him: if the devil have him not in fee-simple, with [fine] and recovery, he will never, I think, in the way of waste, attempt us again.