N. Death! stop mine ears! That I should hear my verse
Again profaned by thee, thou baseborn clown.
T. I read correctly, sir. If you find fault with my reading, ’tis the strangeness of the matter. I have good reasons for not parting with this; and I am not a baseborn clown.
N. Worse; thou art a thief.
T. Thief call you me? Now were the verses ten thousand times yours, sir, I’d never give 'em you. I defy you!
N. Thou to defy me, slave; paid by the month
To render menial offices to one
Himself the annual hireling of the lady
Whom I shall call my sister! O thou fool,
If reason cannot work into thy skull