Mer. Come quickly then, they think we stay too long.
Beech. Ile cut a peece of cheese to drink withall.
Mer. I, take the farewell of your cutting knife,
Here is a hand shall helpe to cut your throate,
And give my selfe a fairing[8] from your chest.—
What are you ready, will you goe along?
Beech. I, now I am; boy, looke you tend the shoppe; If any aske, come for me to the Bull. I wonder who they are that aske for me.
Mer. I know not that, you shall see presentlie.
Goe up those staires, your friends do stay above.—
Here is that friend shall shake you by the head,
And make you stagger ere he speake to you.
Then being in the upper Rome Merry strickes
him in the head fifteene times.
Now you are safe, I would the boy were so;
But wherefore wish I, for he shall not live?
For if he doe, I shall not live myselfe.
[Merry wiped [sic] his face from blood.
Lets see what mony he hath in his purse.
Masse heres ten groates, heres something for my pains.
But I must be rewarded better yet.
Enter Rachell and Harry Williams.