Ralph. But where is the land, that to us you promised?
New. In faith, good fellows, my promise is performed.
Tom. By Gog's blood, I thought that it would be so.
New. This must you have, whe'r you will or no,
Or else fall to work with shovel and with spade;
For begging now must be your chiefest trade.
Ralph. Gog's heart, can I away[356] with this life?
To beg my bread from door to door?
I will rather cut my throat with a knife,
Than I will live thus beggarly and poor.