Mail. Sdeath, sir, use a captaine like a carrier!
Cler. Come, be not furious; when I have done,
You shall make such a carrier of me,220
If't be your pleasure: you're my friend, I know,
And so am bold with you.
Mail. You'll nothing finde
Where nothing is.
Cler. Sweare you have nothing.
Mail. Nothing you seeke, I sweare. I beseech you,
Know I desir'd this out of great affection,225