It is often
so indeed; but much of the father's
substance!
Shakespeare
FALSTAFF. Yea, marry, let me have him to sit under. He's like to be
a cold soldier.
SHALLOW. Where's Shadow?
SHADOW. Here, sir.
FALSTAFF. Shadow, whose son art thou?
SHADOW. My mother's son, sir.
FALSTAFF. Thy mother's son! Like enough; and thy father's shadow.
So the son of the female is the shadow of the male.
It is often
so indeed; but much of the father's
substance!
SHALLOW. Do you like him, Sir John?
FALSTAFF. Shadow will serve for summer. Prick him; for we have a
number of shadows fill up the muster-book.
SHALLOW. Thomas Wart!
FALSTAFF. Where's he?
WART. Here, sir.
FALSTAFF. Is thy name Wart?
WART. Yea, sir.
