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Sim. There’s an old woman, a fat woman, gone up into his chamber. I’ll be so bold as stay, sir, till she come down. I come to speak with her indeed.

Host. Ha? a fat woman? The knight may be robb’d. I’ll call. Bully-knight! bully Sir John! speak from thy lungs military. Art thou there? It is thine host, thine Ephesian, calls.

Fal. [Above.] How now, mine host?

Host. Here’s a Bohemian-Tartar tarries the coming down of thy fat woman. Let her descend, bully, let her descend; my chambers are honorable. Fie, privacy? fie!

[Enter] Falstaff.

Fal. There was, mine host, an old fat woman even now with me, but she’s gone.

Sim. Pray you, sir, was’t not the wise woman of Brainford?

Fal. Ay, marry, was it, mussel-shell, what would you with her?

Sim. My master, sir, my Master Slender, sent to her, seeing her go thorough the streets, to know, sir, whether one Nym, sir, that beguil’d him of a chain, had the chain or no.

Fal. I spake with the old woman about it.

Sim. And what says she, I pray, sir?

Fal. Marry, she says that the very same man that beguil’d Master Slender of his chain cozen’d him of it.