Re-enter Servants with supper.
Why, when, I say? Nay, good sweet Kate, be merry.
Off with my boots, you [rogues]! you villains, when? [[Sings.]
It was the friar of orders grey,
As he forth walked on his way:—
[Out], you rogue! you pluck my foot awry:
Take that, and [mend] the plucking off the other. [[Strikes him.]
Be merry, Kate. Some water, here; what, ho!
Where's [my] spaniel Troilus? Sirrah, get you hence,
And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither: