EVANS.
Pauca verba, Sir John; goot worts.

FALSTAFF.
Good worts! good cabbage! Slender, I broke your head; what matter
have you against me?

SLENDER.
Marry, sir, I have matter in my head against you; and against your
cony-catching rascals, Bardolph, Nym, and Pistol. They carried me
to the tavern, and made me drunk, and afterwards picked my pocket.

BARDOLPH.
You Banbury cheese!

SLENDER.
Ay, it is no matter.

PISTOL.
How now, Mephostophilus!

SLENDER.
Ay, it is no matter.

NYM.
Slice, I say! pauca, pauca; slice! That's my humour.

SLENDER.
Where's Simple, my man? Can you tell, cousin?