The things we do!

_Scrib_. Rather torture mee
With any violent deathe.
_Tread_. Leive them in trust
And chardge of this grave reverent gentleman,
Untill you heire the sentence of the coort.
_Ashb_. I willingly accept theire patronadge:
Heere att my howse they shall have meate and harbour.
_Raph_. Nobly spoke:
Meane tyme hale these to'th coort.
_Mild_. My _Palestra_,
What? not one woord of pitye?
_Raph_. Stopp his mouthe.
_Mild_. My _Scribonia_,
Wilt thou intreate them neather?
_Tread_. Tyme's but trifled;
Away with them to justyce!
_Mild_. Take my skinne then,
Synce nothinge else is left mee.
_Clown_. That's rotten allredy and will neather
make goodd leather nor parchement ... theire.
[_Exeunt_.
_Ashb_. Com, damsalls, followe mee where I shall leade:
I have a cross wyfe at home I tell you that,
But one that I presume will not bee jealous
Of too such harmeles sowles.
_Pal_. You are to us
A patron and defender.
_Scrib_. Bounde unto you
Not as an host but father.
[_Exeunt_.


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