Fra. What do I?
Boy. Nay, nothing, sir.
Phil. O, fie, Franke, fie!
Nay, nay, your reason hath no justice now,
I must needs say; perswade him first to speake, 80
Then chide him for it!—Tell me, prettie wag,
Where stands this prawncer, in what inne or stable?
Or, hath thy maister put her out to runne,
Then, in what field, what champion[1648] feeds this courser,
This well paste, bonnie steed that thou so praisest? 85