Bar.

He will be here incontinently, hostess: I only stept before to let you know he was a coming.

Quick.

But is it veritably true, Bardolph, that Sir John has got a thousand pound by him?

Dol.

Ay, is that true, Bardolph?

Bar.

True, upon honour; he had it of justice Shallow of Gloucestershire; and it lies now in master Gingle-cash, the banker's hands. But Sir John will be here momentably. Is ev'ry thing ready?

Quick.

In a minute we are all clear. Run, good Dol, and receive the knight at the door. Francis! what, Francis!

Fran. (without)

Anon, anon, Sir.

Quick.

Light up candles in the passage. A bottle of sherris, Francis, quick, you sleeping knave.—Always upon a snail's gallop! O that ever woman should be plagued with such creeping varlets!

Dol.

O, here is Sir John, himself.