Get you away, sirrah, I advise you,
Meddle with no chains of mine. [Exit Crier.
You paltry knave, how durst thou be so bold
To cry the chain, when I bid thou shouldst not?
Did I not bid thee only underhand
Make privy inquiry for it through the town,
Lest public rumour might advertise her,
Whose knowledge were to me a second death?
Piston.
Why, would you have me run up and down the town,
And my shoes are done?
Erastus.
What you want in shoes, I'll give you in blows.
[Beats him.
Piston.
I pray you, sir, hold your hands,
And as I am an honest man,
I'll do the best I can to find your chain.
[Exit. Piston.