Enter PAGE, SHALLOW, and SLENDER
Come, come; we'll couch i' th' Castle ditch till we
see the light of our fairies. Remember, son Slender, my daughter.
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;