Fran. What sir?
Poin. Francis

Prin. Away you Rogue, dost thou heare them call?

Heere they both call him, the Drawer stands amazed, not knowing
which way
to go.

Enter Vintner.

Vint. What, stand'st thou still, and hear'st such a calling?
Looke to the Guests within: My Lord, olde Sir
Iohn with halfe a dozen more, are at the doore: shall I let
them in?
Prin. Let them alone awhile, and then open the doore.
Poines.
Enter Poines.

Poin. Anon, anon sir

Prin. Sirra, Falstaffe and the rest of the Theeues, are at
the doore, shall we be merry?
Poin. As merrie as Crickets my Lad. But harke yee,
What cunning match haue you made this iest of the
Drawer? Come, what's the issue?
Prin. I am now of all humors, that haue shewed themselues
humors, since the old dayes of goodman Adam, to
the pupill age of this present twelue a clock at midnight.