Mrs Page. We will do it: let him be sent for [to-morrow,] III. 3.
175 [eight] o’clock, to have amends.
Re-enter Ford, Page, Caius, and Sir Hugh Evans.
Ford. I cannot find him: may be the knave bragged of that he could not compass.
Mrs Page. [Aside to Mrs Ford] Heard you that?
Mrs Ford. [You use] me well, Master Ford, do you?
180 Ford. [Ay, I] do so.
Mrs Ford. Heaven make [you] better than your thoughts!
Ford. Amen!
Mrs Page. You do yourself mighty wrong, Master Ford.
185 Ford. Ay, ay; I must bear it.