WITHIN. What, Jeffrey?
DRA. Anon, anon.
JOHN. A plague upon your Jeffring; is your name Jeffrey?
DRA. Ay, and't please you, sir.
RICH. Why, gentle Jeffrey, then stay you awhile,
What can you say, if you come to your book?
DRA. If I be pos'd upon a book, sir, though I be a poor 'prentice,
I must speak the truth, and nothing but the truth, sir.
JOHN. And what's your truth, sir?
PUR. O, O my heart.
DRA. Marry, sir, this knight, this man of worship—
FAU. Well, what of me? what did my worship do?