Eugen. I am content with this.
Clown. If you bee not I cannot helpe it; for I am threatned to be hang'd if I set but a Tripe before you or give you a bone to gnaw.
Eugen. For me thou shalt not suffer.
Clown. I thank you; but were not you better be no good Christian, as I am, and so fill your belly as to lie here and starve and be hang'd thus in Chaines?
Eugen. No, 'tis my tryumph; all these Chaines to me
Are silken Ribbonds, this course bread a banquet;
This gloomy Dungeon is to me more pleasing
Than the Kings Palace; and cou'd I winne thy soule
To shake off her blacke ignorance, thou, as I doe,
Would'st feele thirst, hunger, stripes and Irons nothing,
Nay, count death nothing. Let me winne thee to me.
Clown. Thank yee for that: winne me from a Table full of good meat to leape at a crust! I am no Scholler, and you (they say) are a great one; and schollers must eate little, so shall you. What a fine thing is it for me to report abroad of you that you are no great feeder, no Cormorant! What a quiet life is it when a womans tongue lies still! and is't not as good when a mans teeth lyes still?
Eugen. Performe what thou art bidden; if thou art charg'd To starve me, Ile not blame thee but blesse heaven.
Clown. If you were starv'd what hurt were that to you?
Eugen. Not any; no, not any.
Clown. Here would be your praise when you should lie dead: they would say, he was a very good man but alas! had little or nothing in him.