[♦] Glou. Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul,
I’ll make a corse of him that disobeys.
[♦] Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass.
[♦] Glou. Unmanner’d dog! stand thou, when I command:
[40] Advance thy halberd higher than my breast,
Or, by Saint Paul, I’ll strike thee to my foot,
[♦] And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness.
Anne. What, do you tremble? are you all afraid?
Alas, I blame you not; for you are mortal,
45 And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.