Believe me 'tis no fury, all that he saies is truth.
Mar.
'Tis very strange.
Arb.
Why do you keep your hats off Gentlemen? is it to me? I swear it must not be; nay, trust me, in good faith it must not be; I cannot now command you, but I pray you for the respect you bare me, when you took me for your King, each man clap on his hat at my desire.
Mar.
We will, you are not found so mean a man, but that you may be cover'd as well as we, may you not?
Arb.
O not here, you may, but not I, for here is my Father in presence.
Mar.