Mrs. Page. Come on, sirrah; hold up your head; answer your master, be not afraid.

Evans. William, how many numbers is in nouns?
Will. Two.

Quick. Truly, I thought there had been one number more ; because they say, od's nouns.

Evans. Peace your tattlings. What is fair, William?
Will. Pulcher.

Quick. Poulcats! there are fairer things than poulcats,

sure.

Evans. You are a very simplicity 'oman; I pray you, peace. What is lapis, William?

Will. A stone.

Evans. And what is a stone, William?

Will. A pebble.

Evans. No, it is lapis; I pray you, remember in your prain.

Will. Lapis.

Evans. That is a good William. What is he, William, that does lend articles?

Will. Articles are borrowed of the pronoun; and be thus declined, Singulariter, nominativo, hic, hæc, hoc.

Evans. Nominativo, hig, hag, hog;—pray you, mark : genitivo, hujus: Well, what is your accusative case? Will. Accusativo, hinc.

Evans. I pray you, have your remembrance, child; Accusativo, hing, hang, hog.

tive

Quick. Hang hog is Latin for bacon, I warrant you. Evans. Leave your prabbles, 'oman. What is the focacase, William?

Will. O-vocativo, O.

Evans. Remember, William; focative is, caret.

Quick. And that's a good root.

Evans. 'Oman, forbear.

Mrs. Page. Peace.

Evans. What is your genitive case plural, William?
Will. Genitive case?

Evans. Ay.

Will. Genitive, horum, harum, horum.

Quick. 'Vengeance of Jenny's case! fye on her!-never name her, child, if she be a whore.

Evans. For shame, 'oman.

Quick. You do ill to teach the child such words: he teaches him to hick and to hack, which they'll do fast enough of themselves; and to call, horum:-fye upon you!

Evans. 'Oman, art thou lunatics? hast thou no understandings for thy cases, and the numbers of the genders? Thou art as foolish christian creatures, as I would desires. Mrs. Page. Pr'ythee, hold thy peace.

Evans. Show me now, William, some declensions of your pronouns.

and

Will. Forsooth, I have forgot.

Evans. It is ki, kæ, cod; if you forget your kies, your kæs, your cods, you must be preeches. Go your ways, and play, go.

Mrs. Page. He is a better scholar, than I thought he was. Evans. He is a good sprag memory. Farewell, mistress Page.

Mrs. Page. Adieu, good sir Hugh. Get you home, boy. -Come, we stay too long.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II

A ROOM IN FORD'S HOUSE.

Enter Falstaff, and Mistress Ford.

Fal. Mistress Ford, your sorrow hath eaten up my sufferance: I see, you are obsequious in your love, and I profess requital to a hair's breadth; not only, mistress Ford, in the simple office of love, but in all the accoutrement, complement, and ceremony of it. But are you sure of husband now?

your

Mrs. Ford. He's a birding, sweet sir John.
Mrs. Page. [within.] What hoa, gossip Ford! what hoa!
Mrs. Ford. Step into the chamber, sir John.

Enter Mistress Page.

[Exit Falstaff.

Mrs. Page. How now, sweetheart? who's at home be

sides yourself?

Mrs. Ford. Why, none but mine own people.

Mrs. Page. Indeed?

Mrs. Ford. No, certainly:-Speak louder.

[Aside.

Mrs. Page. Truly, I am so glad you have nobody here. Mrs. Ford. Why?

Mrs. Page. Why, woman, your husband is in his old lunes again: he so takes on yonder with my husband; so