Hostesse. Who I? I defie thee: I was neuer call'd so in mine owne house before
Falst. Goe to, I know you well enough
Hostesse. No, sir Iohn, you doe not know me, Sir Iohn: I know you, Sir Iohn: you owe me Money, Sir Iohn, and now you picke a quarrell, to beguile me of it: I bought you a dozen of Shirts to your Backe
Falst. Doulas, filthy Doulas: I haue giuen them away to Bakers Wiues, and they haue made Boulters of them
Hostesse. Now as I am a true Woman, Holland of eight shillings an Ell: You owe Money here besides, Sir Iohn, for your Dyet, and by-Drinkings, and Money lent you, foure and twentie pounds
Falst. Hee had his part of it, let him pay
Hostesse. Hee? alas hee is poore, hee hath nothing
Falst. How? Poore? Looke vpon his Face: What call you Rich? Let them coyne his Nose, let them coyne his Cheekes, Ile not pay a Denier. What, will you make a Younker of me? Shall I not take mine ease in mine Inne, but I shall haue my Pocket pick'd? I haue lost a Seale-Ring of my Grand-fathers, worth fortie marke
Hostesse. I haue heard the Prince tell him, I know not
how oft, that that Ring was Copper
Falst. How? the Prince is a Iacke, a Sneake-Cuppe:
and if hee were heere, I would cudgell him like a Dogge,
if hee would say so.
Enter the Prince marching, and Falstaffe meets him, playing on his
Trunchion like a Fife.