RICH. I cannot choose but smile at these conceits.
JOHN. I am mad; and yet I must laugh at Fauconbridge:
Brother, look how Sir Richard acts his rage!
FAU. I came? I call? the man is like to die,
Practice, by the mass; practice, by the marry God!
I shall be charg'd here for a poison'd knave,
Practice, by th'Lord, practice!—I see it clear.
PUR. And more, Sir Richard. O Lord, O Sir Richard!
FAU. What more? what hast thou more? what practice more?
PUR. O my box, my box, with the king's arms! O my box,
O my box! it cost me, O Lord, every penny; O my box!
RICH. And what of your box, sir?
DRA. Marry, sir, it's lost; and 'tis well known my master keeps no thieves in his house; O, there was none but you and he.
FAU. O, then belike thou thinkest I had his box.
PUR. O Sir Richard, I will not; O Lord, I will not charge you for all the world; but—but—but for the warrant the old King sign'd to reprieve the porter of the Fleet! O God, O God!