Mrs Ford. Do not betray me, sir. I fear you love 65 Mistress Page.
Fal. Thou mightst as well say I love to walk by the Counter-gate, which is as hateful to me as the reek of a lime-kiln.
Mrs Ford. Well, heaven knows how I love you; and 70 you shall one day find it.
Fal. Keep in that mind; I’ll deserve it.
Mrs Ford. Nay, I must tell you, so you do; or else I could not be in that mind.
Rob. [Within] Mistress Ford, Mistress Ford! here’s III. 3.
75 Mistress Page at the door, [sweating], and blowing, and looking wildly, and would needs speak with you presently.
Fal. She shall not see me: I will ensconce me behind the arras.
Mrs Ford. Pray you, do so: she’s a very tattling 80 woman.
Falstaff hides himself.