Qui. This is my doing now: Nay, saide I, will you
cast away your childe on a Foole, and a Physitian:
Looke on M[aster]. Fenton, this is my doing

Fen. I thanke thee: and I pray thee once to night,
Giue my sweet Nan this Ring: there's for thy paines

Qui. Now heauen send thee good fortune, a kinde
heart he hath: a woman would run through fire & water
for such a kinde heart. But yet, I would my Maister
had Mistris Anne, or I would M[aster]. Slender had her: or (in
sooth) I would M[aster]. Fenton had her; I will do what I can
for them all three, for so I haue promisd, and Ile bee as
good as my word, but speciously for M[aster]. Fenton. Well, I
must of another errand to Sir Iohn Falstaffe from my two
Mistresses: what a beast am I to slacke it.

Exeunt.

Scena Quinta.

Enter Falstaffe, Bardolfe, Quickly, Ford.

Fal. Bardolfe I say

Bar. Heere Sir

Fal. Go, fetch me a quart of Sacke, put a tost in't.
Haue I liu'd to be carried in a Basket like a barrow of
butchers Offall? and to be throwne in the Thames? Wel,