DRA. I am a poor boy, sir; your worship may say your pleasure; our maids have had a foul hand with him. You said he would be sick; so he is, with a witness. JOHN. Look about, Fauconbridge, here's work for you! You have some evil angel in your shape. Go, sirrah, bring us forth that Pursuivant. _Enter two, leading the_ PURSUIVANT, _sick_. RICH. Gloster, thou wilt be too-too venturous; Thou dost delight in those odd humours so, That much I fear they'll be thy overthrow. [_Aside_. PUR. O, O, O, not too fast; O, I am sick, O, very sick. JOHN. What picture of the pestilence is this? PUR. A poor man, sir, a poor man, sir: down, I pray ye; I pray, let me sit down. Ah, Sir Richard, Sir Richard! Ah, good Sir Richard! what, have I deserv'd to be thus dealt withal at your worship's hands? Ah! ah! ah! FAU. At my hands, knave? at my hands, paltry knave? DRA. And I should be brought to my book-oath, sir. WITHIN. What, Jeffrey? DRA. Anon, anon. JOHN. A plague upon your Jeffring; is your name Jeffrey? DRA. Ay, and't please you, sir. RICH. Why, gentle Jeffrey, then stay you awhile, What can you say, if you come to your book? DRA. If I be pos'd upon a book, sir, though I be a poor 'prentice, I must speak the truth, and nothing but the truth, sir. JOHN. And what's your truth, sir? PUR. O, O my heart. DRA. Marry, sir, this knight, this man of worship-- FAU. Well, what of me? what did my worship do? DRA. Marry, ye came into the Bell--our room next the bar--with this honest man, as I take it. FAU. As thou tak'st it? PUR. O, sir, 'tis too true, too true, too true. O Lord. DRA. And there he call'd for a pint of sack, as good sack (I'll be pos'd upon all the books that ever opened and shut), as any in all Christendom. FAU. Body of me, I come and call for sack? PUR. O, ye did, ye did, ye did. O, O. JOHN. Well, forward, sirrah. RICH. Gloster hath done this jest. [_Aside_. DRA. And you call'd then for sugar, sir, as good sugar and as wholesome, as ever came in any cup of sack: you drank to this man, and you do well, God be thanked--but he no sooner drank-- PUR. But I, but I, but I--O my head! O my heart! RICH. I cannot choose but smile at these conceits. JOHN. I am mad; and yet I must laugh at Fauconbridge: Brother, look how Sir Richard acts his rage! FAU. I came? I call? the man is like to die, Practice, by the mass; practice, by the marry God! I shall be charg'd here for a poison'd knave, Practice, by th'Lord, practice!--I see it clear. PUR. And more, Sir Richard. O Lord, O Sir Richard! FAU. What more? what hast thou more? what practice more? PUR. O my box, my box, with the king's arms! O my box, O my box! it cost me, O Lord, every penny; O my box! RICH. And what of your box, sir? DRA. Marry, sir, it's lost; and 'tis well known my master keeps no thieves in his house; O, there was none but you and he. FAU. O, then belike thou thinkest I had his box.