’Twas full of darnel; do you like the taste?
45 Bur. Scoff on, vile fiend and shameless courtezan!
I trust ere long to choke thee with thine own
And make thee curse the harvest of that corn.
Char. Your grace may starve perhaps before that time.
Bed. O, let no words, but deeds, revenge this treason!
[50] Puc. What will you do, good grey-beard? break a lance,
And run a tilt at death within a chair?
[♦] Tal. Foul fiend of France, and hag of all despite,
Encompass’d with thy lustful paramours!