Sir To. She's a beagle, true bred, and one that adores me; What o' that?
Sir And. I was adored once too.
Sir To. Let's to bed, knight.—Thou hadst need send for more money.
Sir And. If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way out.
Sir To. Send for money, knight; if thou hast her not i' the end, call me Cut.
Sir And. If I do not, never trust me, take it how you will.
Sir To. Come, come; I'll go burn some sack, 'tis too late to go to bed now.
Sir And. I'll call you Cut.
Sir To. Come, knight,—come, knight.
Sir And. I'll call you Cut.[Exeunt.