DAVY.
Marry, sir, thus: those precepts cannot be served; and again, sir—shall we sow the hade land with wheat?
SHALLOW.
With red wheat, Davy. But for William cook, are there no young pigeons?
DAVY.
Yes, sir. Here is now the smith’s note for shoeing and plough-irons.
SHALLOW.
Let it be cast and paid. Sir John, you shall not be excused.
DAVY.
Now, sir, a new link to the bucket must needs be had. And, sir, do you mean to stop any of William’s wages, about the sack he lost the other day at Hinckley fair?
SHALLOW.
He shall answer it. Some pigeons, Davy, a couple of short-legged hens, a joint of mutton, and any pretty little tiny kickshaws, tell William cook.
DAVY.
Doth the man of war stay all night, sir?
SHALLOW.
Yea, Davy, I will use him well: a friend i’ th’ court is better than a penny in purse. Use his men well, Davy, for they are arrant knaves, and will backbite.
DAVY.
No worse than they are backbitten, sir, for they have marvellous foul linen.
SHALLOW.
Well conceited, Davy. About thy business, Davy.