160 Page. Marry, were they.
Ford. I like it never the better for that. Does he lie at the Garter?
Page. Ay, marry, does he. If he should intend [this] voyage toward my wife, I would turn her loose to him; and 165 what he gets more of her than sharp words, let it lie on my head.
Ford. I do not misdoubt my wife; but I would be loath to turn them together. A man may be too confident: I would have nothing lie on my head: I cannot be thus 170 satisfied.
Page. Look where my ranting host of the Garter comes: there is either liquor in his pate, or money in his purse, when he looks so merrily.
[Enter Host.]
How now, mine host!
II. 1.
175 Host. How now, bully-rook! thou’rt a gentleman. [Cavaleiro]-justice, I say!
Enter Shallow.
Shal. I follow, mine host, I follow. Good even and twenty, good Master Page! Master Page, will you go with us? we have sport in hand.