Glut. Nay, by God Almight!
Thereof will I none;
I was never wont to that gear.
But I may serve to be a victualler—
And thereof shall ye have store—
So that I may stand out of danger
Of gun shot; but I will come no near;
I warn you that before!
Envy. Now, such a knave I betake to the devil!
This is even such another drivel
As was here whilere:
They be two knaves anointed.
I fear me, sir! ye shall be disappointed;
I like not this gear.
Glut. O! I had forgotten, I make God avow!
Sir! my fellow, Ease, commandeth me to you.
Man. Commandeth thee to me?
Man. Me to thee!
Glut. Commandeth you to him, I would have said.
Man. Why cometh he not hither?
Glut. By God! for he is afraid;
And lieth sick in his bed.
He took such a conceit when he heard of this gear
That for thought and very fear
[A line is shaved away at the foot of the page.]