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.

PUR. O Sir Richard, I will not; O Lord, I will not charge you for all
the world; but--but--but for the warrant the old King sign'd to
reprieve the porter of the Fleet! O God, O God!

JOHN. The porter of the Fleet? the old King sign'd?--

PUR. Ay, my good lord, ay, ay.

JOHN. Is he reprieved then?

PUR. No, my lord; O, Sir Richard took it from me with his own hand, O!

FAU. Here's a device to bring me in contempt
With the old King, that I ever lov'd.
Princes and Sheriff, you can witness with me,
That I have been with you this afternoon--
Only with you, with nobody but you--
And now a fellow, whom the King would save
By a reprieve, this fellow says, is hang'd.

JOHN. If thou hadst done it, I'd have justified it;
But, Richard, I conceit this jest already:
This mad-mate Skink, this honest merry knave,
Meeting this Pursuivant, and hearing tell
He had a warrant to reprieve a slave
Whom we would hang, stole it away from him.
This is sure the jest; upon my life, it is!

PUR. O, but my warrant, how shall I do? O!

RICH. But look about you, hot-brain'd brother John,
And I believe you'll find it otherwise;
Gloster hath got the warrant in disguise,
And sav'd the fellow you so fain would hang.

JOHN. No, no; how say you, master Sheriff, is he not hang'd?

SHER. My lord, the gibbet was set up by noon
In the Old Bailey, and I charg'd my men,
If I return not, though it were by torchlight,
To see him executed, ere they come.

JOHN. I am greedy to hear news.

FAU. Robb'd of my chain, out-faced I had a sword,
Accused of poisoning, cozenage, seeking blood!
Not to be borne! it is intolerable!

RI