WILL. Frank! what Frank? 'sblood, is Sir Ralph mad? [_Aside_.] Here's the bow. PHIL. I have not been much private with that voice: Methinks Frank Goursey's talk and his doth tell me I am mistaken; especially by his bow; Frank had no bow. Well, I will leave this fellow, And hollow somewhat farther in the fields. [_Aside_.] --Dost thou hear, fellow? I perceive by thee That we are both mistaken: I took thee For one thou art not; likewise thou took'st me For Sir Ralph Smith, but sure I am not he: And so, farewell; I must go seek my friend. So ho! [_Exit_. WILL. So ho, so ho! nay, then, Sir Ralph, so whore! For a whore she was sure, if you had her here So late. Now, you are Sir Ralph Smith![366] Well do ye counterfeit and change your voice, But yet I know ye. But what should be that Francis? Belike that Francis cosen'd him of his wench, And he conceals himself to find her out; 'Tis so, upon my life. Well, I will go, And help him ring his peal of so ho, so ho! [_Exit_. _Enter_ FRANK. FRAN. A plague on Coomes! a plague upon the boy! A plague, too--not on my mother for an hundreth pound! 'Twas time to run; and yet I had not thought My mother could have followed me so close, Her legs with age I thought had foundered; She made me quite run through a quickset hedge, Or she had taken me. Well, I may say, I have run through the briars for a wench; And yet I have her not--the worse luck mine. Methought I heard one hollow hereabout; I judge it Philip; O, the slave will laugh, When as he hears how that my mother scar'd me! Well, here I'll stand until I hear him hollow, And then I'll answer him; he is not far. [_Enter_ SIR RALPH SMITH.] SIR RALPH. My man is hollowing for me up and down, And yet I cannot meet with him. So ho! FRAN. So ho! SIR RALPH. Why, what a pox, wert thou so near me, man, And wouldst not speak? FRAN. 'Sblood, ye're very hot. SIR RALPH. No, sir, I am cold enough with staying here For such a knave as you. FRAN. Knave! how now, Philip? Art mad, art mad? SIR RALPH. Why, art not thou my man, That went to fetch my bow?[367] FRAN. Indeed, a bow Might shoot me ten bows down the weather so: I your man! SIR RALPH. What art thou, then? FRAN. A man: but what's thy name? SIR RALPH. Some call me Ralph. FRAN. Then, honest Ralph, farewell. SIR RALPH. Well-said, familiar Will! plain Ralph, i'faith. [_Hollow within_ PHILIP _and_ WILL.][368] FRAN. There calls my man. SIR RALPH. But there goes mine away; And yet I'll hear what this next call will say, And here I'll tarry, till he call again. [_Retires_.][369] [_Enter_ WILL.] WILL. So ho! FRAN. So ho! where art thou, Philip? WILL. 'Sblood,[370] Philip! But now he call'd me Francis: this is fine. [_Aside_.] FRAN. Why studiest thou? I prythee, tell me, Philip, Where the wench[371] is.