SHALLOW.
I have lived fourscore years and upward; I never heard a man of his place, gravity, and learning, so wide of his own respect.
EVANS.
What is he?
PAGE.
I think you know him: Master Doctor Caius, the renowned French physician.
EVANS.
Got’s will and His passion of my heart! I had as lief you would tell me of a mess of porridge.
PAGE.
Why?
EVANS.
He has no more knowledge in Hibbocrates and Galen, and he is a knave besides, a cowardly knave as you would desires to be acquainted withal.
PAGE.
I warrant you, he’s the man should fight with him.
SLENDER.
[Aside.] O, sweet Anne Page!
SHALLOW.
It appears so by his weapons. Keep them asunder. Here comes Doctor Caius.
Enter Host, Caius and Rugby.