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Page. Sir, he is within; and I would I could do a good office between you.

Evans. It is spoke as a Christians ought to speak.

Shal. He hath wrong’d me, Master Page.

Page. Sir, he doth in some sort confess it.

Shal. If it be confess’d, it is not redress’d. Is not that so, Master Page? He hath wrong’d me, indeed he hath, at a word he hath. Believe me, Robert Shallow, esquire, saith he is wrong’d.

Page. Here comes Sir John.

[Enter Sir John] Falstaff, Bardolph, Nym, Pistol.

Fal. Now, Master Shallow, you’ll complain of me to the King?

Shal. Knight, you have beaten my men, kill’d my deer, and broke open my lodge.

Fal. But not kiss’d your keeper’s daughter?

Shal. Tut, a pin! this shall be answer’d.

Fal. I will answer it straight: I have done all this. That is now answer’d.

Shal. The Council shall know this.

Fal. ’Twere better for you if it were known in counsel. You’ll be laugh’d at.

Evans. Pauca verba; Sir John, good worts.

Fal. Good worts? good cabbage. Slender, I broke your head; what matter have you against me?