not: if she say I am not [fourteen pence on the score] for
[sheer] ale, score me up for the lyingest knave in Christendom.
[What!] I am not bestraught: here's—
[Third Serv.] O, this it is that makes your lady mourn!
25
Sec. Serv. O, this [is it] that makes your servants droop!
Lord. Hence comes it that your kindred [shuns] your house,
As beaten hence by your strange lunacy.
O noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth,
Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment