SUMNER.
Sirra, I brought it not my lord to eat.
HARPOOLE. O, do you sir me now? all’s one for that: but I’ll make you eat it, for bringing it.
SUMNER.
I cannot eat it.
HARPOOLE. Can you not? sblood I’ll beat you until you have a stomach.
[He beats him.]
SUMNER.
O hold, hold, good master serving-man! I will eat it.
HARPOOLE. Be champing, be chawing, sir; or I’ll chaw you, you rogue! the purest of the honey! Tough wax is the purest of the honey.
SUMNER.
O Lord, sir! oh! oh!
[He eats.]
HARPOOLE. Feed, feed! wholesome, rogue, wholesome! Cannot you, like an honest Sumner, walk with the devil your brother, to fetch in your Bailiffs’ rents, but you must come to a noble man’s house with process? Sblood! if thy seal were as broad as the lead that covers Rochester church, thou shouldst eat it.