Fal. God-a-mercy! so should I be sure to be heartburned.[2811]45
Enter Hostess.[2812]
How now, Dame Partlet the hen! have you inquired yet
who picked my pocket?
Host. Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John? do
you think I keep thieves in my house? I have searched, I50
have inquired, so has my husband, man by man, boy by
boy, servant by servant: the tithe of a hair was never lost[2813]
in my house before.
Fal. Ye lie, hostess: Bardolph was shaved, and lost
many a hair; and I'll be sworn my pocket was picked.[2814]55
Go to, you are a woman, go.[2815]
Host. Who, I? no; I defy thee: God's light, I was[2816]
never called so in mine own house before.
Fal. Go to, I know you well enough.
Host. No, Sir John; you do not know me, Sir John.60
I know you, Sir John: you owe me money, Sir John; and
now you pick a quarrel to beguile me of it: I bought you a
dozen of shirts to your back.
Fal. Dowlas, filthy dowlas: I have given them away to
bakers' wives, and they have made bolters of them.[2817]65
Host. Now, as I am a true woman, holland of eight[2818]
shillings an ell. You owe money here besides, Sir John,[2818]
for your diet and by-drinkings, and money lent you, four[2819][2820]
and twenty pound.[2820][2821]