The Bodleian First Folio

Not within Sir.

Oh prettie Isabella, I am pale at mine heart, to

see thine eyes so red: thou must be patient; I am faine

to dine and sup with water and bran: I dare not for my

head fill my belly. One fruitful Meale would set mee

too't: but they say the Duke will be heere to Morrow.

By my troth Isabell I lou'd thy brother, if the olde fan­

tastical Duke of darke corners had bene at home, he had liued.

Sir, the Duke is marueilous little beholding

to your reports, but the best is, he liues not in them.

Friar, thou knowest not the Duke so wel as I

do: he's a better woodman then thou tak'st him for.

Well: you'l answer this one day. Fare ye well.

You haue told me too many of him already sir

if they be true: if not true, none were enough.

I was once before him for getting a Wench

with childe.

Did you such a thing?

Sir your company is fairer then honest, rest you

well.

By my troth Ile go with thee to the lanes end:

if baudy talke offend you, wee'l haue very litle of it: nay

Friar, I am a kind of Burre, I shal sticke.

Euery Letter he hath writ, hath disuouch'd other.