Fal. You shall heare. As good lucke would haue it,
comes in one Mist[ris]. Page, giues intelligence of Fords approch:
and in her inuention, and Fords wiues distraction,
they conuey'd me into a bucke-basket

Ford. A Buck-basket?
Fal. Yes: a Buck-basket: ram'd mee in with foule
Shirts and Smockes, Socks, foule Stockings, greasie
Napkins, that (Master Broome) there was the rankest
compound of villanous smell, that euer offended nostrill

Ford. And how long lay you there?
Fal. Nay, you shall heare (Master Broome) what I
haue sufferd, to bring this woman to euill, for your
good: Being thus cram'd in the Basket, a couple of
Fords knaues, his Hindes, were cald forth by their Mistris,
to carry mee in the name of foule Cloathes to
Datchet-lane: they tooke me on their shoulders: met
the iealous knaue their Master in the doore; who
ask'd them once or twice what they had in their Basket?
I quak'd for feare least the Lunatique Knaue
would haue search'd it: but Fate (ordaining he should
be a Cuckold) held his hand: well, on went hee, for
a search, and away went I for foule Cloathes: But
marke the sequell (Master Broome) I suffered the pangs
of three seuerall deaths: First, an intollerable fright,
to be detected with a iealious rotten Bell-weather:
Next to be compass'd like a good Bilbo in the circumference
of a Pecke, hilt to point, heele to head. And
then to be stopt in like a strong distillation with stinking