I will by no means be spoken withal.
FATHER.
I'll warrant you; go, get you in.
[Enter Lancelot and Weathercock.]
LANCELOT.
Now, my honest friend, thou doest belong to Master
Flowerdale.
FATHER.
I do, sir.
LANCELOT.
Is he within, my good fellow?
FATHER.
No, sir, he is not within.
LANCELOT.
I prithee, if he be within, let my speak with him.
FATHER.
Sir, to tell you true, my master is within, but indeed
would not be spoke withal: there be some terms that
stands upon his reputation, therefore he will not admit
any conference till he hath shook them off.
LANCELOT.
I prithee tell him his very good friend, Sir Lancelot
Spurcock, entreats to speak with him.
FATHER.
By my troth, sir, if you come to take up the matter
between my master and the Devonshire man, you do
not but beguile your hopes, and lose your labour.
LANCELOT.
Honest friend, I have not any such thing to him; I come
to speak with him about other matters.
FATHER.
For my master, sir, hath set down his resolution, either
to redeem his honour, or leave his life behind him.
LANCELOT.
My friend, I do not know any quarrel touching thy
master or any other person: my business is of a different
nature to him, and I prithee so tell him.
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