Buz. Why, then, I must sweare so, too.
Hen. "Oh it was I that murthered him! this hand killed him!"
[Within, Man] Buzzano!
Hen. He's up.
[Man.] Buzzano!
Buz. I come.
Hen. Helpe to make him ready,[34] but not a word on thy life.
Buz. Mum. [Exit.
Hen. So let it worke; thus far my wheeles goe true.
Because a Captaine, leading up his men
In the proud van, has honour above them,
And they his vassailes; must my elder brother
Leave me a slave to the world? & why, forsooth?
Because he gott the start in my mother's belly,
To be before me there. All younger brothers
Must sitt beneath the salt[35] & take what dishes
The elder shoves downe to them. I doe not like
This kind of service: could I, by this tricke,
Of a voice counterfeited & confessing
The murther of my father, trusse up this yonker
And so make my selfe heire & a yonger brother
Of him, 'twere a good dayes worke. Wer't not fine angling?
Hold line and hook: Ile puzzle him.
Enter Manuell & Buzzano.