So thou shalt take part, and I shall take some.
New. Well, Tom Collier, let these things pass away;
Tell me what market thou hast made of thy coal to-day?
Coll. To every bushel cha zold but three peck:
Lo, here be the empty zacks on my neck.
Cha beguil'd the whoresons, that of me ha' bought;
But to beguile me was their whole thought.
New. But hast thou no conscience in beguiling thy neighbour?
Coll. No, marry, so ich may gain vor my labour,
It is a common trade nowadays, this is plain,