WILL. Here.
SIR RALPH. O, ye are a trusty squire!
NICH. It had been better, and he had said, a sure card.
PHIL. Why, sir?
NICH. Because it is the proverb.
PHIL. Away, ye ass!
NICH. An ass goes a four legs; I go of two, Christ cross.
PHIL. Hold your tongue.
NICH. And make no more ado.
MR GOUR. Go to, no more ado. Gentle Sir Ralph,
Your man is not in fault for missing you,
For he mistook by us, and we by him.