Ill-W. Qury cisis quest is un malt ombre;
Me is un Spyanardo compoco parlavere.
Health. Thou false thief! is thine English tongue gone?
As mischievous Ill-Will and Shrewd Wit ye have destroyed many one.
Wit. Sir! hurt not me, and I will tell you truth, anon:
This same is as false a knave as ever came within Saint John's.
Ill-W. Per amor de my as pica un poco
Eo queris andar pour lagtaunt creae so.
Rem. I cannot tell what thou dost mean, babbler!
But thou shall speak English, and confess another matter.
Health. Sir! I beseech your lordship, in the way of charity,
Let not these thieves escape your hands: they have destroyed us utterly.
Wit. Sir! believe him not! he speaks but of malice only.
We be true men; thereof we shall fetch good witness,
An honest man that shall be bound for him and me.
The law saith plain: Nulla fides contra testes.
Rem. That is truth; but who will be witness or bound for thee?
Ill-W. There is three among you in this house.
Wit. I will go to fetch them quickly.