To apprehend me, never spice it more
With forc'd tearmes of your love, but say: I yeeld;
Holde, take my sword, here; I forgive thee freely;
Take; doe thine office.
Mail. Sfoote! you make m'a hang-man;
By all my faith to you, there's no such thing.240
Cler. Your faith to mee!
Mail. My faith to God; all's one:
Who hath no faith to men, to God hath none.
Cler. In that sense I accept your othe, and thanke you.