Grob. Are you in your senses?
Clar. I will inform--
Grob. So you may.
Clar. All you have said.
Grob. Do so.
Clar. My son shall have ample satisfaction. Where is your conscience, fellow? Defame a man in office and dignity? Now, go out by that door, or I will lay both my hands on you.
Grob. The man must be tipsy. (Laughs, and exit.)
Clar. Aye, you may laugh, you cursed thief. All my limbs tremble!--Some envious man, some fiend has sent him hither.--Jack would not betray his native town.
SCENE VI.
Enter Frederica.