Ralph. By this shoe, said he. How am I amazed
At this strange accident! Upon my life,
This was the very shoe I gave my wife,
When I was pressed for France; since when, alas!
I never could hear of her: it is the same,
And Hammon’s bride no other but my Jane.
Enter Firk.
Firk. ’Snails,[87] Ralph, thou hast lost thy part of three pots, a countryman of mine gave me to breakfast.
Ralph. I care not; I have found a better thing.
Firk. A thing? away! Is it a man’s thing, or a woman’s thing?
Ralph. Firk, dost thou know this shoe?
Firk. No, by my troth; neither doth that know me! I have no acquaintance with it, ’tis a mere stranger to me.
Ralph. Why, then I do; this shoe, I durst be sworn,
Once covered the instep of my Jane.
This is her size, her breadth, thus trod my love;
These true-love knots I pricked; I hold my life,
By this old shoe I shall find out my wife.
Firk. Ha, ha! Old shoe, that wert new! How a murrain came this ague-fit of foolishness upon thee?