John. I know not what to say.
Duke. Am I a person
To be your sport, Gentlemen?
John. I do believe now certain
I am a knave; but how, or when—
Duke. What are you?
Petr. Bawd to this piece of pye meat.
Bawd. A poor Gentlewoman
That lyes in Town, about Law business,
And't like your worships.
Petr. You shall have Law, believe it.
Bawd. I'le shew your Mastership my case.
Petr. By no means,
I had rather see a Custard.
Bawd. My dead Husband
Left it even thus Sir.