MRS. PAGE. Truly, I am so glad you have nobody here.
MRS. FORD. Why?
MRS. PAGE. Why, woman, your husband is in his old lunes
again. He so takes on yonder with my husband; so rails
against all married mankind; so curses all Eve's daughters,
of what complexion soever; and so buffets himself on the
forehead, crying 'Peer-out, peer-out!' that any madness I
ever yet beheld seem'd but tameness, civility, and patience,
to this his distemper he is in now. I am glad the fat knight
is not here.
MRS. FORD. Why, does he talk of him?
MRS. PAGE. Of none but him; and swears he was carried out,
the last time he search'd for him, in a basket; protests to
my husband he is now here; and hath drawn him and the
rest of their company from their sport, to make another
experiment of his suspicion. But I am glad the knight is not
here; now he shall see his own foolery.
MRS. FORD. How near is he, Mistress Page?
MRS. PAGE. Hard by, at street end; he will be here anon.
MRS. FORD. I am undone: the knight is here.
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