Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Fal. Fal.
Fal. What winde blew you hither, Pistoll?
Pist. Pist.
Pist. Not the ill winde which blowes none to good,
Pist. sweet Knight: Thou art now one of the greatest men in
Pist. the Realme.
Sil. Sil.
Sil. Indeed, I thinke he bee, but Goodman Puffe of
Sil. Barson.
Pist. Puffe? puffe in thy teeth, most recreant Coward
Pist. base. Sir Iohn, I am thy Pistoll, and thy Friend: helter
Pist. skelter haue I rode to thee, and tydings do I bring, and
Pist. luckie ioyes, and golden Times, and happie Newes of
Pist. price.
Fal. I prethee now deliuer them, like a man of this
Fal. World.
Pist. A footra for the World, and Worldlings base,