What is it to me?
Now, ma belle, to supper.

A pair of cold capons, a mortress of brawn, or what you will, with a flask or two of the right Gascony.

I have crowns in my pouch, my sweet, and I mean to spend them.

Bring in wine while the food is dressing.

Buvons my brave lads; you shall each empty a stoup with me." Here was an offer which the company in an English inn at that or any other date are slow to refuse.