Enter PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER
Come, come; we'll couch i' the castle-ditch till we
see the light of our fairies. Remember, son Slender,
Ay, forsooth; I have spoke with her and we have a
nay-word how to know one another: I come to her in
white, and cry 'mum;' she cries 'budget;' and by
that we know one another.
That's good too: but what needs either your 'mum'
or her 'budget?' the white will decipher her well
enough. It hath struck ten o'clock.
The night is dark; light and spirits will become it
well. Heaven prosper our sport! No man means evil
but the devil, and we shall know him by his horns.
Let's away; follow me.