95: _lose my parson, my priest_] _lose my Priest_ Pope.
96: [_Give me thy hand, terrestrial; so_] Theobald (from Q1 Q2).
om. Ff Q3. _Give me thy hands, celestial and terrestrial; so._
Collier MS.
101: _lads_] (Q1 Q2) Warburton. _lad_ Ff Q3.
108: _vlouting-stog_] _vlouting-stock_ Pope.
110: _scall_] _scald_ Pope. _Scal'_ Capell.
112: _with_] _vith_ Hanmer. _vit_ rec. Capell.
113: _where_] _vhere_ Pope. _ver_ Hanmer. _vere_ rec. Capell.

SCENE II. _The street, in Windsor._

_Enter MISTRESS PAGE and ROBIN._

_Mrs Page._ Nay, keep your way, little gallant; you were
wont to be a follower, but now you are a leader. Whether
had you rather lead mine eyes, or eye your master's heels?

_Rob._ I had rather, forsooth, go before you like a man
than follow him like a dwarf. 5

_Mrs Page._ O, you are a flattering boy: now I see
you'll be a courtier.

_Enter FORD._

_Ford._ Well met, Mistress Page. Whither go you?

_Mrs Page._ Truly, sir, to see your wife. Is she at home?

_Ford._ Ay; and as idle as she may hang together, for 10
want of company. I think, if your husbands were dead,
you two would marry.

_Mrs Page._ Be sure of that,--two other husbands.

_Ford._ Where had you this pretty weathercock?

_Mrs Page._ I cannot tell what the dickens his name is 15
husband had him of. --What do you call your knight's
name, sirrah?

_Rob._ Sir John Falstaff.

_Ford._ Sir John Falstaff!

_Mrs Page._ He, he; I can never hit on's name. There 20
is such a league between my good man and he!--Is your
wife at home indeed?

_Ford._ Indeed she is.

_Mrs Page._ By your leave, sir: I am sick till I see her.

[_Exeunt Mrs Page and Robin._

_Ford._ Has Page any brains? hath he any eyes? hath 25
he any thinking? Sure, they sleep; he hath no use of them.
Why, this boy will carry a letter twenty mile, as easy as a
cannon will shoot point-blank twelve score. He pieces out
his wife's inclination; he gives her folly motion and advantage:
and now she's going to my wife, and Falstaff's boy 30
with her. A man may hear this shower sing in the wind.
And Falstaff's boy with her! Good plots, they are laid;
and our revolted wives share damnation together. Well; I
will take him, then torture my wife, pluck the borrowed
veil of modesty from the so seeming Mistress Page, divulge 35
Page himsel