BUTLER.
I will, my Lord.

[Offer him a purse.]

BISHOP.
Not for a recompence,
But as a token of our love to you,
By me my Lords of the clergy do present
This purse, and in it full a thousand Angels,
Praying your Lordship to accept their gift.

SUFFOLK.
I thank them, my Lord Bishop, for their love,
But will not take they money; if you please
To give it to this gentleman, you may.

BISHOP.
Sir, then we crave your furtherance herein.

BUTLER.
The best I can, my Lord of Rochester.

BISHOP.
Nay, pray ye take it; trust me but you shall.

SIR JOHN.
--Were ye all thee upon New Market heath,
You should not need strain curtsey who should ha't;