Marry, good friend, I think we should enjoy this fair feast ere we fight.

What sayest thou, jolly Cook ?" At this speech the Cook looked up and down, scratching his head in doubt, for he loved good feasting.

At last he drew a long breath and said to Little John, "Well, good friend, I like thy plan right well; so, pretty boy, say I, let us feast, with all my heart, for one of us may sup in Paradise before nightfall." So each thrust his sword back into the scabbard and entered the pantry.
Then, after they had seated themselves, Little John drew his dagger and thrust it into the pie.

"A hungry man must be fed," quoth he, "so, sweet chuck, I help myself without leave." But the Cook did not lag far behind, for straightway his hands also were deeply thrust within the goodly pasty.

After this, neither of them spoke further, but used their teeth to better purpose.