Escal. Come, you are a tedious fool: to the purpose. What was done to Elbow’s wife, that he hath cause to complain of? Come [me] to what was done to her.
Pom. Sir, your honour cannot come to that yet.
115 Escal. No, sir, [nor] I mean it not.
Pom. Sir, but you shall come to it, by your honour’s leave. And, I beseech you, look [into] Master Froth here, sir; a man of fourscore pound a year; whose father died at Hallowmas:—was’t not at Hallowmas, Master Froth?—
120 Froth. [All-hallond] eve.
Pom. Why, very well; I hope here be truths. He, sir, sitting, as I say, in a lower [chair, sir]; ’twas in the Bunch of Grapes, where, indeed, you have a delight to sit, have you not?
II. 1.
125 Froth. I have so; because it is an open room, and good for [winter].
Pom. Why, very well, then; I hope here be truths.
Ang. This will last out a night in Russia,
When nights are longest there: I’ll take my leave,