Enter Falstaffe.
Falst. When Arthur first in Court - (emptie the Iordan)
and was a worthy King: How now Mistris Dol?
Host. Sick of a Calme: yea, good-sooth
Falst. So is all her Sect: if they be once in a Calme,
they are sick
Dol. You muddie Rascall, is that all the comfort you
giue me?
Falst. You make fat Rascalls, Mistris Dol
Dol. I make them? Gluttonie and Diseases make
them, I make them not
Falst. If the Cooke make the Gluttonie, you helpe to
make the Diseases (Dol) we catch of you (Dol) we catch
of you: Grant that, my poore Vertue, grant that
Dol. I marry, our Chaynes, and our Iewels
Falst. Your Brooches, Pearles, and Owches: For to
serue brauely, is to come halting off: you know, to come
off the Breach, with his Pike bent brauely, and to Surgerie
brauely; to venture vpon the charg'd-Chambers
brauely
Host. Why this is the olde fashion: you two neuer
meete, but you fall to some discord: you are both (in
good troth) as Rheumatike as two drie Tostes, you cannot
one beare with anothers Confirmities.
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