Ant. If we can get him off: Sirrah Bustofa
Thou must needs run back.
Bust. But I must not unless you send
A Bier, or a Lictor at my back, I do not use to run
From my friends.
Ant. Well, go will serve turn: I have forgot.
Bust. What Sir?
Ant. See if I can think on't now.
Bust. I know what 'tis now.
Ant. A Pistolet of that.
Bust. Done, you have forgot a devise to send me away,
You are going a smocking perhaps.
Mar. His own, due, due i'faith Antonio,
The Pistolet's his own.
Ant. I confess it,
There 'tis: now if you could afford out of it
A reasonable excuse to mine Uncle.