Mrs Page. Nay, keep your way, little gallant; you were wont to be a follower, but now you are a leader. Whether had you rather lead mine eyes, or eye your master’s heels?
Rob. I had rather, forsooth, go before you like a man 5 than follow him like a dwarf.
Mrs Page. O, you are a flattering boy: now I see you’ll be a courtier.
Enter Ford.
Ford. Well met, Mistress Page. Whither go you?
Mrs Page. Truly, sir, to see your wife. Is she at home?
10 Ford. Ay; and as idle as she may hang together, for want of [company]. I think, if your husbands were dead, you two would marry.
Mrs Page. Be sure of that,—two other husbands.
Ford. Where had you this pretty weathercock?
15 Mrs Page. I cannot tell what the dickens his name is husband had him of. —What do you call your knight’s name, sirrah?