No More Learning

Pray you come near. If I suspect without cause, why
then make sport at me, then let me be your jest; I deserve
it. How now, whither bear you this?
SERVANT. To the laundress, forsooth.
MRS. FORD. Why, what have you to do whither they bear it?
You were best meddle with buck-washing.
FORD. Buck? I would I could wash myself of the buck!
Buck, buck, buck! ay, buck! I warrant you, buck; and of
the season too, it shall appear.
[Exeunt SERVANTS with
basket] Gentlemen, I have dream'd to-night; I'll tell you my
dream. Here, here, here be my keys; ascend my chambers,
search, seek, find out. I'll warrant we'll unkennel the fox.
Let me stop this way first. [Locking the door] So, now
uncape.
PAGE. Good Master Ford, be contented; you wrong yourself
too much.
FORD. True, Master Page. Up, gentlemen, you shall see sport
anon; follow me, gentlemen. Exit
EVANS. This is fery fantastical humours and jealousies.
CAIUS. By gar, 'tis no the fashion of France; it is not jealous
in France.
PAGE. Nay, follow him, gentlemen; see the issue of his
search.