Shape. A rogue, a mere decoy! and yet like
me?
And. Nay, hold, I mean he is a rogue, when that
He hath his own clothes on. D' y' think that I
Would call him so when he is in your suit?
Shape. No more of that, good Andrew, as you love me;
Keep in your wit.
And. Speak, tutor, do I use
To quarrel? Speak, good tutor.
Mean. That wit, Andrew,
Of yours will be th' undoing of you, if
You use't no better.
And. Faith, I thought I might
Have broke a witty jest upon him, being
I've lost my cloak.
Mean. True; but he has lost his too,
And then you know that is not lawful wit.
Enter Hearsay.
Hear. Here's Master Credulous and old Sir Thomas;
They have some business with you.
Mean. Bring 'em in.