M. Bar. Gentle sir Raphe, your courtesie is such
As may impose commaund unto us all;
We will be thankfull bolde at your request.
Phil. I pray, sir Raph, what cheere shall we have? 340
S. Raph. I faith, countrie fare, mutton and veale,
Perchance a ducke or goose.
Mal. Oh, I am sick!
All. How now, Mall? whats the matter?
Mal. Father and mother, if you needs would know, 345
He nam'd a goose, which is my stomacks foe.