Falst. Ye lye Hostesse: Bardolph was shau'd, and lost
many a hayre; and Ile be sworne my Pocket was pick'd:
goe to, you are a Woman, goe

Hostesse. Who I? I defie thee: I was neuer call'd so
in mine owne house before

Falst. Goe to, I know you well enough

Hostesse. No, sir Iohn, you doe not know me, Sir Iohn:
I know you, Sir Iohn: you owe me Money, Sir Iohn, and
now you picke a quarrell, to beguile me of it: I bought
you a dozen of Shirts to your Backe

Falst. Doulas, filthy Doulas: I haue giuen them
away to Bakers Wiues, and they haue made Boulters of
them

Hostesse. Now as I am a true Woman, Holland of eight
shillings an Ell: You owe Money here besides, Sir Iohn,
for your Dyet, and by-Drinkings, and Money lent you,
foure and twentie pounds

Falst. Hee had his part of it, let him pay

Hostesse. Hee? alas hee is poore, hee hath nothing

Falst. How? Poore? Looke vpon his Face: What call
you Rich? Let them coyne his Nose, let them coyne his
Cheekes, Ile not pay a Denier. What, will you make a