1 Sold. He spares us that labour,
For here he comes.
Sep.—Bless ye my honest friends,
Bless ye from base unworthy men; come not near me,
For I am yet too taking for your company.
1 Sold. Did I not tell ye?
2 Sold. What book's that?
1 Sold. No doubt
Some excellent Salve for a sore heart: are you
Septimius, that base knave, that betray'd Pompey?