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Fenton [Within]. Who’s within there, ho?

Quick. Who’s there, I trow? Come near the house, I pray you.

[Enter] Fenton.

Fent. How now, good woman, how dost thou?

Quick. The better that it pleases your good worship to ask.

Fent. What news? How does pretty Mistress Anne?

Quick. In truth, sir, and she is pretty, and honest, and gentle, and one that is your friend; I can tell you that by the way, I praise heaven for it.

Fent. Shall I do any good, think’st thou? shall I not lose my suit?

Quick. Troth, sir, all is in His hands above. But notwithstanding, Master Fenton, I’ll be sworn on a book she loves you. Have not your worship a wart above your eye?

Fent. Yes, marry, have I, what of that?

Quick. Well, thereby hangs a tale. Good faith, it is such another Nan; but (I detest) an honest maid as ever broke bread. We had an hour’s talk of that wart. I shall never laugh but in that maid’s company! But, indeed, she is given too much to allicholy and musing; but for you—well—go to.

Fent. Well; I shall see her to-day. Hold, there’s money for thee. Let me have thy voice in my behalf. If thou seest her before me, commend me.