Fran. There calles my man. 80
Ra. But there goes mine away;
And yet Ile heare what this next call will say, [Goes out toward the fields.]
And here Ile tarrie till he call againe.
[Enter Will.]
Wil. So ho!
Fran. So ho! where art thou, Phillip? 85
Wil. Sbloud,[1839] Philip!
But now he calde[1840] me Francis: this is fine. [Aside.]