Bloody-B. Not part, brother?
Four. Brother, the wight is improvable, and this must not be borne withal.
Bloody-B. Have I for this dissolved Circean charms?
Broke iron durance; whilst from these firm legs
The well-filed, useless fetters dropped away,
And left me master of my native freedom?
Sir Dav. What does he mean now?
Four. Truly, sir, I am sorry to see it with all my heart; 'tis a distraction that frequently seizes him, though I am sorry it should happen so unluckily at this time.
Sir Dav. Distracted, say you? is he so apt to be distracted?
Four. Oh, sir, raging mad; we that live by murder are all so; guilt will never let us sleep. I beseech you, sir, stand clear of him; he's apt to be very mischievous at these unfortunate hours.
Bloody-B. Have I been drunk with tender infants' blood,
And ripped up teeming wombs? Have these bold hands
Ransacked the temples of the gods, and stabbed
The priests before their altars? Have I done this? ha!
Sir Dav. No, sir, not that I know, sir; I would not say any such thing for all the world, sir. Worthy gentleman, I beseech you, sir—you seem to be a civil person—I beseech you, sir, to mitigate his passion. I'll do anything in the world; you shall command my whole estate.