Oh, good my Lord Captaine
Fal. What? do'st thou roare before th'art prickt
Bul. Oh sir, I am a diseased man
Fal. What disease hast thou?
Bul. A whorson cold sir, a cough sir, which I caught
with Ringing in the Kings affayres, vpon his Coronation
day, sir
Fal. Come, thou shalt go to the Warres in a Gowne:
we will haue away thy Cold, and I will take such order,
that thy friends shall ring for thee. Is heere all?
Shal. There is two more called then your number:
you must haue but foure heere sir, and so I pray you go in
with me to dinner
Fal. Come, I will goe drinke with you, but I cannot
tarry dinner. I am glad to see you in good troth, Master
Shallow
Shal. O sir Iohn, doe you remember since wee lay all
night in the Winde-mill, in S[aint]. Georges Field
Falstaffe. No more of that good Master Shallow: No
more of that
Shal. Ha? it was a merry night. And is Iane Nightworke
aliue?
Fal. She liues, M[aster]. Shallow
Shal. She neuer could away with me
Fal.
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