Cost. I’ll do it in my shirt.
[687] Dum. Most resolute Pompey!
[688] Moth. Master, let me take you a button-hole lower. Do you not see Pompey is uncasing for the combat? What 690 mean you? You will lose your reputation.
Arm. Gentlemen and soldiers, pardon me; I will not combat in my shirt.
Dum. You may not deny it: Pompey hath made the challenge.
695 Arm. Sweet bloods, I both may and will.
Biron. What reason have you for’t?
Arm. The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt; I go woolward for penance.
[699] Boyet. True, and it was enjoined him in Rome for want 700 of linen: since when, I’ll be sworn, he wore none but a dish-clout [701] of Jaquenetta’s, and that a’ wears next his heart for a [702] favour.