Enter Peasant.
Pea. O that I could lose my way for another cup, now. I was well paide for it yfaith.
Alb. Yonder is one; Ile enquire of him. Fellow, ho! peasant!
Pea. Aie me, the mad man againe, the mad man.
Alb. Saie, whither fliest thou.
Pea. Pray, let me goe, sir; I am not Hyanthe, in truth I am not, sir.
Alb. Hyanthe, villaine? wherfore namest thou her?
Pea. If I have any scarres in my belly, pray God I starve, sir.
Alb. The wretch is mad, I thinke.
Pea. Not I, sir, but you be not madde, you are well amended, sir.