Sir Mart. I am a fool, I must confess it; and I am the most miserable one without thy help—but yet it was such a mistake as any man might have made.
Warn. No doubt of it.
Sir Mart. Pr'ythee chide me! this indifference of thine wounds me to the heart.
Warn. I care not.
Sir Mart. Wilt thou not help me for this once?
Warn. Sir, I kiss your hands, I have other business.
Sir Mart. Dear Warner!
Warn. I am inflexible.
Sir Mart. Then I am resolved I'll kill myself.
Warn. You are master of your own body.