RD and MISTRESS PAGE._

_Mrs Ford._ Sir John! art thou there, my deer? my 15
male deer?

_Fal._ My doe with the black scut! Let the sky rain
potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of Green Sleeves, hail
kissing-comfits, and snow eringoes; let there come a tempest
of provocation, I will shelter me here. 20

_Mrs Ford._ Mistress Page is come with me, sweetheart.

_Fal._ Divide me like a bribe 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? 25
Why, now is Cupid a child of conscience; he makes restitution.
As I am a true spirit, welcome! [_Noise within._

_Mrs Page._ Alas, what noise?

_Mrs Ford._ Heaven forgive our sins!

_Fal._ What should this be? 30

_Mrs Ford._} Away, away! [_They run off._
_Mrs Page._}

_Fal._ I think the devil will not have me damned, lest
the oil that's in me should set hell on fire; he would never
else cross me thus.

_Enter SIR HUGH EVANS, disguised as before; PISTOL, as Hobgoblin;
MISTRESS QUICKLY, ANNE PAGE, and others, as Fairies, with tapers._

_Quick._ Fairies, black, grey, green, and white, 35
You moonshine revellers, and shades of night,
You orphan heirs of fixed destiny,
Attend your office and your quality.
Crier Hobgoblin, make the fairy oyes.

_Pist._ Elves, list your names; silence, you airy toys. 40
Cricket, to Windsor chimneys shalt thou leap:
Where fires thou find'st unraked and hearths unswept,
There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry:
Our radiant queen hates sluts and sluttery.

_Fal._ They are fairies; he that speaks to them shall die: 45
I'll wink and couch: no man their works must eye.
[_Lies down upon his face._

_Evans._ Where's Bede? Go you, and where you find a maid
That, ere she sleep, has thrice her prayers said,
Raise up the organs of her fantasy;
Sleep she as sound as careless infancy: 50
But those as sleep and think not on their sins,
Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides, and shins.

_Quick._ About, about;
Search Windsor Castle, elves, within and out:
Strew good luck, ouphes, on every sacred room; 55
That it may stand till the perpetual doom,
In state as wholesome as in state 'tis fit,
Worthy the o