Brun. Will you hear that?
Bawdb. This Lye bears a similitude of Truth.
Prot. I ever courteous, (a great weakness in me)
Granted his humble suit.
Mart. Oh impudence!
Thier. This change is excellent.
Mart. A word with you,
Deny it not, I was that man disguis'd,
You know my temper, and as you respect
A daily cudgeling for one whole year,
Without a second pulling by the ears,
Or tweaks by th' nose, or the most precious balm
You us'd of patience, patience do you mark me,
Confess before these Kings with what base fear
Thou didst deliver it.
Prot. Oh, I sh[all] burst,
And if I have not instant liberty
To tear this fellow limb by limb, the wrong
Will break my heart, although Herculean,
And somewhat bigger; there's my gage, pray you he[re],
Let me redeem my credit.
Thier. Ha, ha, forbear.
Mart. Pray you let me take it up, and if I do not,
Against all odds of Armor and of Weapons,
With this make him confess it on his knees
Cut off my head.
Prot. No, that's my office.