Bes.
The Sword is eaten.
Mar.
Away you fool, the King is serious,
And cannot now admit your vanities.
Bes.
Vanities! I'me no honest man, if my enemies have not brought it to this, what, do you think I lie?
Arb.
No, no, 'tis well Bessus, 'tis very well I'm glad on't.
Mar.
If your enemies brought it to this, your enemies are Cutlers, come leave the King.