Poore man. Oh maister I would you could.
[♦] Humphrey. My Maisters of saint Albones,
Haue you not Beadles in your Towne,
And things called whippes?
110 Mayor. Yes my Lord, if it please your grace.
Humph. Then send for one presently.
Mayor. Sirrha, go fetch the Beadle hither straight. Exet one.
Humph. Now fetch me a stoole hither by and by.
Now sirrha, If you meane to saue your selfe from whipping,
115 Leape me ouer this stoole and runne away.