LIT. JOHN. But, Master Warman, you have loaded carts,
And turned my lord's goods to your proper use.
Whoever hath the right, you do the wrong,
And are—
WIFE. What is he, kneve?
LIT. JOHN. Unworthy to be nam'd a man.
MUCH. And I'll be sworn for his wife.
WIFE. Ay, so thou mayest, Much.
MUCH. That she sets new marks of all my old lady's linen (God rest her soul!), and my young lord never had them since.
WIFE. Out, out! I took him them but for to whiten, as God mend me.
ELY. Leave off this idle talk; get ye both hence.
LIT. JOHN. I thank your honours: we are not in love
With being here.
We must seek service that are masterless.
[Exeunt MUCH and LITTLE JOHN.