Sil. Good morrow, good cousin Shallow.
Shal. And how doth my cousin, your bedfellow? and5
your fairest daughter and mine, my god-daughter Ellen?
Sil. Alas, a black ousel, cousin Shallow![3861]
Shal. By yea and nay, sir, I dare say my cousin William[3862]
is become a good scholar: he is at Oxford still, is he not?
Sil. Indeed, sir, to my cost.10
Shal. A' must, then, to the inns o'court shortly: I was[3863]
once of Clement's Inn, where I think they will talk of mad
Shallow yet.
Sil. You were called 'lusty Shallow' then, cousin.
Shal. By the mass, I was called any thing; and I would[3864]15
have done any thing indeed too, and roundly too. There[3865]
was I, and little John Doit of Staffordshire, and black George
Barnes, and Francis Pickbone, and Will Squele, a Cotswold[3866][3867]
man; you had not four such swinge-bucklers in all the inns[3867][3868]
o'court again: and I may say to you, we knew where the[3869]20
bona-robas were and had the best of them all at[3870]
commandment. Then was Jack Falstaff, now Sir John, a boy, and[3871]
page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk.
Sil. This Sir John, cousin, that comes hither anon about[3872]
soldiers?25
Shal. The same Sir John, the very same. I see him[3873]
break Skogan's head at the court-gate, when a' was a crack[3874]
not thus high: and the very same day did I fight with one[3875]
Sampson Stockfish, a fruiterer, behind Gray's Inn. Jesu,[3876]
Jesu, the mad days that I have spent! and to see how many[3876]30
of my old acquaintance are dead![3877]