_2_.
Brother, I say you palter, the must three times together; I wear
as sharp Steel as another man, and my Fox bites as deep, musted,
my dear brother. But to the cause again.
_Bes_.
Nay look you Gentlemen.
_2_.
In a word, I ha' done.
_1_.
A tall man but intemperate, 'tis great pity;
Once more suppose the Boy kick'd.
_2_.
Forward.
_1_.
And being thorowly kick'd, laughs at the kicker.
_2_
So much for us; proceed.
_1_.
And in this beaten scorn, as I may call it,
Delivers up his weapon; where lies the error?
_Bes_.
It lies i'th' beating Sir, I found it four dayes since.
_2_.
The error, and a sore one as I take it,
Lies in the thing kicking.
_Bes_.