Poin. Come you pernitious Asse, you bashfull Foole,
must you be blushing? Wherefore blush you now? what
a Maidenly man at Armes are you become? Is it such a
matter to get a Pottle-pots Maiden-head?
Page. He call'd me euen now (my Lord) through a red
Lattice, and I could discerne no part of his face from the
window: at last I spy'd his eyes, and me thought he had
made two holes in the Ale-wiues new Petticoat, & peeped
through

Prin. Hath not the boy profited?
Bar. Away, you horson vpright Rabbet, away

Page. Away, you rascally Altheas dreame, away

Prin. Instruct vs Boy: what dreame, Boy?
Page. Marry (my Lord) Althea dream'd, she was deliuer'd
of a Firebrand, and therefore I call him hir dream

Prince. A Crownes-worth of good Interpretation:
There it is, Boy

Poin. O that this good Blossome could bee kept from
Cankers: Well, there is six pence to preserue thee

Bard. If you do not make him be hang'd among you,
the gallowes shall be wrong'd

Prince. And how doth thy Master, Bardolph?