Falst. thine Eye, and a foolish hanging of thy nether Lippe, that
Falst. doth warrant me. If then thou be Sonne to mee, heere I
Falst.
poynted at
Falst.
Micher, and eate Black‑berryes
Falst. take Purses? a question to be askt. There is a thing,
Falst. many in our Land, by the Name of Pitch: this Pitch (as
Falst. ancient Writers doe report) doth defile; so doth the com
Falst.
panie thou keepest: for Harry, now I doe not speake to
Falst. thee in Drinke, but in Teares; not in Pleasure, but in Pas
Falst. there is a virtuous man whom I haue often noted in thy