Hip. O’er-reached so finely? ’Tis the very diamond
And letter which I sent: this villany
Some spider closely weaves, whose poisonèd bulk
I must let forth. Who’s there without?
Ser. [Within.] My lord calls?
Hip. Send me the footman.
Ser. [Within.] Call the footman to my lord,—Bryan, Bryan!
Hip. It can be no man else, that Irish Judas,
Bred in a country where no venom prospers
But in the nation’s blood, hath thus betrayed me.
Re-enter Bryan.
Slave, get you from your service.
Bry. Faat meanest thou by this now?
Hip. Question me not, nor tempt my fury, villain
Couldst thou turn all the mountains in the land,
To hills of gold, and give me: here thou stayest not.