Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Gru. and so long am I at the least. But wilt thou make a fire,
Gru. or shall I complaine on thee to our mistris, whose hand
Gru. (she being now at hand) thou shalt soone feele, to thy
Gru. cold comfort, for being slow in thy hot office.
Cur. Cur.
Cur. I prethee good Grumio, tell me, how goes the
Cur. world?
Gru. Gru.
Gru. A cold world Curtis in euery office but thine, &
Gru. therefore fire: do thy duty, and haue thy dutie, for my
Gru. Master and mistris are almost frozen to death.
Cur. There's fire readie, and therefore good Grumio
Cur. the newes.
Gru. Why Iacke boy, ho boy, and as much newes as
Gru. wilt thou.
Cur. Come, you are so full of conicatching.