The things we do!

They give him over, saying everie wound,
Of sixe, whereof theres seav'n in his head,
Are mortall woundes and all incurable.
[_They survey his woundes_.
_Enter Merrie and Williams_.
_Mer_. How now, good _Harry_, hast thou hid my fault?
The boy that knew I train'd his Maister forth,
Lies speechlesse, and even at the point of death.
If you prove true, I hope to scape the brunt.
_Will_. Whie, feare not me, I have conceal'd it yet,
And will conceale it, have no doubt of me.
_Mer_. Thanks, gentle _Harry_, thou shalt never lacke;
But thou and I will live as faithfull friendes,
And what I have, shalbe thine owne to use.
There is some monie for to spend to-day,
I know you meane to goe and see the faire.
_Will_. I faine would go, but that I want a cloake.
_Mer_. Thou shalt not want a cloake, or ought beside,
So thou wilt promise to be secret. [_Gives him his cloake_.
Here, take my Cloake, ile weare my best my selfe.
But where did you lie this last night?
_Wil_. At the _three Cranes_, in a Carmans hay loft,
But ile have better lodging soone at night.


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