Lodo. Look you, I spake that laughing.


Flam. Dost ever think to speak again?


Lodo. Do you hear?
Wilt sell me forty ounces of her blood
To water a mandrake?


Flam. Poor lord, you did vow
To live a lousy creature.


Lodo. Yes.


Flam. Like one
That had for ever forfeited the daylight,
By being in debt.


Lodo. Ha, ha!


Flam. I do not greatly wonder you do break,
Your lordship learn'd 't long since. But I 'll tell you.