:49:00
With you, goodman boy,
an you please?
:49:02
Weapons! Arms!
What's the matter here?
:49:06
Keep peace,
upon your lives!
:49:09
He dies that strikes again.
What is the matter?
:49:13
The messengers from our sister
and the king.
:49:15
- What is your difference? Speak.
- I am scarce in breath, my lord.
:49:19
No marvel. You cowardly rascal.
:49:21
One-trunk-inheriting slave,
a superserviceable rogue,
:49:24
one that wouldst be a bawd
in way of good service!
:49:27
Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?
:49:29
This ancient ruffian, whose life
I've spared at suit of his gray beard.
:49:32
Let me tread him into mortar, and
daub the wall of a jakes with him.
:49:36
Peace, sirrah! You beastly knave,
know you no reverence?
:49:39
Yes, sir,
but anger hath a privilege.
:49:42
Why art thou angry?
:49:44
That such a slave should wear a sword,
who wears no honesty.
:49:48
Such smiling rogues as these
:49:51
renege, affirm and turn their
halcyon beaks
:49:55
with every gale and vary
of their masters,
:49:57
knowing naught, like dogs,
but following.
:50:00
Smile you my speeches,
as I were a fool?
:50:03
What, art thou mad, old fellow?
:50:05
How fell you out? Say that.
:50:07
No contraries hold more antipathy
than I and such a knave.
:50:11
- What's his offence?
- His countenance likes me not.
:50:13
No more, perchance, does mine,
nor his, nor hers?
:50:17
Sir, 'tis my occupation
to be plain:
:50:21
I have seen better faces in my time
than that I see this instant.
:50:26
Fetch forth the stocks!
:50:29
You reverend braggart,
we'll teach you!
:50:33
I am too old to learn.
:50:35
Call not your stocks for me.
:50:40
I serve the king, on whose
employment I was sent to you.
:50:42
You shall do small respect,
stocking his messenger.
:50:45
Fetch forth the stocks!
:50:47
There shall he sit till noon.
:50:50
Why, madam, if I were your father's
dog, not messenger...
:50:55
Sir, being his knave, I will!
:50:58
This is a fellow of the self-same
colour our sister speaks of.