Caius. Be gar, nor I too: there is no-bodies Page. Fy, fy, M[aster]. Ford, are you not asham'd? What spirit, what diuell suggests this imagination? I wold not ha your distemper in this kind, for y welth of Windsor castle Ford. 'Tis my fault (M[aster]. Page) I suffer for it Euans. You suffer for a pad conscience: your wife is as honest a o'mans, as I will desires among fiue thousand, and fiue hundred too Cai. By gar, I see 'tis an honest woman Ford. Well, I promisd you a dinner: come, come, walk in the Parke, I pray you pardon me: I wil hereafter make knowne to you why I haue done this. Come wife, come Mi[stris]. Page, I pray you pardon me. Pray hartly pardon me Page. Let's go in Gentlemen, but (trust me) we'l mock him: I doe inuite you to morrow morning to my house to breakfast: after we'll a Birding together, I haue a fine Hawke for the bush. Shall it be so: Ford. Any thing Eu. If there is one, I shall make two in the Companie Ca. If there be one, or two, I shall make-a-theturd Ford. Pray you go, M[aster]. Page Eua. I pray you now remembrance to morrow on the lowsie knaue, mine Host Cai. Dat is good by gar, withall my heart Eua. A lowsie knaue, to haue his gibes, and his mockeries. Exeunt. Scoena Quarta. Enter Fenton, Anne, Page, Shallow, Slender, Quickly, Page, Mist.Page. Fen. I see I cannot get thy Fathers loue, Therefore no more turne me to him (sweet Nan.) Anne. Alas, how then? Fen. Why thou must be thy selfe. He doth obiect, I am too great of birth, And that my state being gall'd with my expence, I seeke to heale it onely by his wealth. Besides these, other barres he layes before me, My Riots past, my wilde Societies, And tels me 'tis a thing impossible I should loue thee, but as a property An. May be he tels you true. No, heauen so speed me in my time to come, Albeit I will confesse, thy Fathers wealth Was the first motiue that I woo'd thee (Anne:) Yet wooing thee, I found thee of more valew Then stampes in Gold, or summes in sealed bagges: And 'tis the very riches of thy selfe, That now I ayme at An. Gentle M[aster]. Fenton, Yet seeke my Fathers loue, still seeke it sir, If opportunity and humblest suite Cannot attaine it, why then harke you hither Shal. Breake their talke Mistris Quickly. My Kinsman shall speake for himselfe Slen. Ile make a shaft or a bolt on't, slid, tis but venturing Shal. Be not dismaid Slen. No, she shall not dismay me: I care not for that, but that I am affeard Qui. Hark ye, M[aster]. Slender would speak a word with you An. I come to him. This is my Fathers choice: O what a world of vilde ill-fauour'd faults Lookes handsome in three hundred pounds a yeere? Qui. And how do's good Master Fenton? Pray you a word with you Shal. Shee's comming; to her Coz: O boy, thou hadst a father