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- Scene III] Merry Wives of Windsor 37
Pistol. I ken the wight ; he is of substance good.
Falstaff. My honest lads, I will tell you what I
am about.
Pistol. Two yards, and more. 39
Falstaff. No quips now, Pistol ! — Indeed, I am
in the waist two yards about ; but I am now about
no waste, I am about thrift. — Briefly, I do mean to
make love to Ford's wife. I spy entertainment in
her ; she discourses, she carves, she gives the leer
of invitation. I can construe the action of her fa-
miliar style ; and the hardest voice of her behaviour,
to be Englished rightly, is, * I am Sir John Falstaff 's.'
Pistol. He hath studied her well, and translated
her ill — out of honesty into English. 49
Nym. The anchor is deep ; will that humour pass ?
Falstaff. Now, the report goes she has all the rule
of her husband's purse ; he hath a legion of angels.
Pistol. As many devils entertain, and 'To her,
boy,' say I.
Nym. The humour rises, it is good ; humour me
the angels.
Falstaff. I have writ me here a letter to her ; and
here another to Page's wife, who even now gave me
good eyes too, examined my parts with most judi-
cious oeillades ; sometimes the beam of her view
gilded my foot, sometimes my portly belly. 61
Pistol. Then did the sun on dunghill shine.
Nym. I thank thee for that humour.
Falstaff. O, she did so course o'er my exteriors
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