SCENE 3. A room in FORD'S house.
Thou 'rt a good boy; this secrecy of thine shall
be a tailor to thee, and shall make thee a new doublet and
hose. I'll go hide me.
Do so. Go tell thy master I am alone.
Mistress Page, remember you your cue.
I warrant thee; if I do not act it, hiss me.
Go to, then; we'll use this unwholesome
humidity, this gross watery pumpion; we'll teach him to
know turtles from jays.
'Have I caught thee, my heavenly jewel?'
Why, now let me die, for I have lived long enough: this is
the period of my ambition: O this blessed hour!
O, sweet Sir John!
Mistress Ford, I cannot cog, I cannot prate,
Mistress Ford. Now shall I sin in my wish; I would thy
husband were dead. I'll speak it before the best lord, I
would make thee my lady.
I your lady, Sir John! Alas, I should be a pitiful
Let the court of France show me such another. I
see how thine eye would emulate the diamond; thou hast
the right arched beauty of the brow that becomes the
ship-tire, the tire-valiant, or any tire of Venetian admittance.
A plain kerchief, Sir John; my brows become
nothing else; nor that well neither.
By the Lord, thou art a traitor to say so: thou
wouldst make an absolute courtier; and the firm fixture of
thy foot would give an excellent motion to thy gait in a
semi-circled farthingale. I see what thou wert, if Fortune
thy foe were, not Nature, thy friend. Come, thou canst not
Believe me, there's no such thing in me.