115 Bard. You Banbury cheese!
Slen. Ay, it is no matter.
Pist. How now, Mephostophilus!
Slen. Ay, it is no matter.
[Nym.] Slice, I say! pauca, pauca: slice! that’s my 120 humour.
Slen. Where’s Simple, my man? Can you tell, cousin?
Evans. Peace, I pray you. Now let us understand. There is three umpires in this matter, as I understand; I. 1.
125 that is, Master Page, fidelicet Master Page; and there is myself, fidelicet myself; and the [three] party is, lastly and finally, mine host of the [Garter].
Page. We three, to hear it and end it between them.
Evans. Fery goot: I will make a prief of it in my 130 note-book; and we will afterwards ork upon the cause with as great [discreetly] as we can.
Fal. Pistol!