Enter SLY and
I’ll pheeze you, in faith.
A pair of stocks, you rogue!
Y'are a baggage, the Slys are no rogues. Look in
the chronicles—we came in with Richard Conqueror.
Therefore paucas pallabris: let the
world slide. Sessa!
You will not pay for the glasses you have burst?
No, not a denier. Go by, Saint Jeronimy. Go to thy cold bed and
I know my remedy. I must go fetch the thirdborough.
Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I’ll answer him by
10I’ll not budge an inch, boy. Let him come, and
Wind horns Enter a LORD from hunting,
with his train