Glut. I shall tell you anon
[A line has been shaved away at the foot of the page.]
Marry, sir! I am come here
For to attend upon you;
We shall a warfare it is told me.
Man. Yea, where is thy harness?
Glut. Marry! here may ye see—
Here is harness enow.
Wrath. Why, hast thou none other harness but this?
Glut. What the devil harness should I miss,
Without it be a bottle?
Another bottle I will go purvey
Lest that drink be scarce in the way;
Or happily none to sell.
Wrath. Thou must have other harness than this, man!
Glut. Other harness? nay, I shrew me then!
I can no skill thereon—
Why, trowest thou that I will fight?
Envy. Yea, so I trow!