Send me a cool
rut-time, Jove, or who can blame me to piss my tallow?
Who comes here? my doe?
Enter MISTRESS FORD and MISTRESS PAGE
MRS. FORD. Sir John! Art thou there, my deer, my male deer.
FALSTAFF. My doe with the black scut! Let the sky rain
potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of Greensleeves, hail
kissing-comfits, and snow eringoes; let there come a tempest
of provocation, I will shelter me here. [Embracing her]
MRS. FORD. Mistress Page is come with me, sweetheart.
FALSTAFF. Divide me like a brib'd buck, each a haunch; I
will keep my sides to myself, my shoulders for the fellow
of this walk, and my horns I bequeath your husbands. Am
I a woodman, ha? Speak I like Herne the Hunter? Why,
now is Cupid a child of conscience; he makes restitution.
As I am a true spirit, welcome! [A noise of horns]
MRS. PAGE. Alas, what noise?
MRS. FORD. Heaven forgive our sins!
FALSTAFF. What should this be?
MRS. FORD. } Away, away.
MRS. PAGE. } Away, away. [They run off]
FALSTAFF.
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