Mistress Mul. What’s the noise with you? What ail you?
Mul. Where’s the barber?
Mistress Mul. Gone. I saw him depart long since. Why, are not you trimm’d?
Mul. Trimm’d! O wife! I am shaved. Did you take hence the money?
Mistress Mul. I touch’d it not, as I am religious.
Mul. O Lord! I have wink’d fair.
Enter Holifernes.
Hol. I pray, godfather, give me your blessing.
Mul. O Holifernes—O where’s thy mother’s Andrew? 100