Ford. What a damned Epicurean rascal is this! My heart is ready to crack with impatience. Who says this is improvident jealousy? my wife hath sent to him; the hour 260 is fixed; the match is made. Would any man have thought this? See the hell of having a [false] woman! My bed shall be abused, my coffers ransacked, my reputation gnawn at; and I shall not only receive this villanous wrong, but stand under the adoption of abominable terms, and by him 265 that does me [this wrong]. Terms! names!—Amaimon sounds well; Lucifer, well; Barbason, well; yet they are devils’ additions, the names of fiends: but Cuckold! [Wittol!—Cuckold!] the devil himself hath not such a name. Page is an ass, a secure ass: he will trust his wife; he will not 270 be jealous. I will rather trust a Fleming with my butter, Parson Hugh the Welshman with my cheese, an Irishman with my aqua-vitæ bottle, or a thief to walk my ambling gelding, than my wife with herself: then she plots, then she ruminates, then she devises; and what they think in II. 2.
275 their hearts they may effect, they will break their hearts but they will effect. [God] be praised for my jealousy!—Eleven o’clock the hour. I will prevent this, detect my wife, be revenged on Falstaff, and laugh at Page. I will about it; better three hours too soon than a minute too 280 late. Fie, fie, fie! cuckold! cuckold! cuckold! Exit.
[ II. 3 Scene III.] A field near Windsor.
Enter Caius and Rugby.
Caius. Jack Rugby!
Rug. Sir?
Caius. Vat is [de] clock, Jack?
Rug. Tis past the hour, sir, that Sir Hugh promised 5 to meet.
Caius. By gar, he has save his soul, dat he is no come; he has pray his Pible well, dat he is no come: by gar, Jack Rugby, he is dead already, if he be come.
Rug. He is wise, sir; he knew your worship would 10 kill him, if he came.
Caius. By gar, de herring [is no dead so as I vill kill him]. Take your rapier, Jack; I vill tell you how I vill kill him.