MISTRESS QUICKLY.
Blessing of his heart!
MISTRESS PAGE.
Sir Hugh, my husband says my son profits nothing in the world at his book. I pray you ask him some questions in his accidence.
EVANS.
Come hither, William. Hold up your head, come.
MISTRESS PAGE.
Come on, sirrah. Hold up your head. Answer your master, be not afraid.
EVANS.
William, how many numbers is in nouns?
WILLIAM.
Two.
MISTRESS QUICKLY.
Truly, I thought there had been one number more, because they say “’Od’s nouns.”
EVANS.
Peace your tattlings! What is “fair,” William?
WILLIAM.
Pulcher.
MISTRESS QUICKLY.
Polecats? There are fairer things than polecats, sure.