Enter Host.
PAGE.
Look where my ranting host of the Garter comes. There is either liquor in his pate or money in his purse when he looks so merrily.—How now, mine host?
HOST.
How now, bully rook? Thou’rt a gentleman.—Cavaliero Justice, I say!
Enter Shallow.
SHALLOW.
I follow, mine host, I follow.—Good even and twenty, good Master Page. Master Page, will you go with us? We have sport in hand.
HOST.
Tell him, Cavaliero Justice; tell him, bully rook.
SHALLOW.
Sir, there is a fray to be fought between Sir Hugh the Welsh priest and Caius the French doctor.
FORD.
Good mine host o’ the Garter, a word with you.
HOST.
What say’st thou, my bully rook?
[Ford and the Host talk apart.]