Lieu. Be not so rash, take ransome, let him liue

Suf. Looke on my George, I am a Gentleman,
Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be payed

Whit. And so am I: my name is Walter Whitmore.
How now? why starts thou? What doth death affright?
Suf. Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death:
A cunning man did calculate my birth,
And told me that by Water I should dye:
Yet let not this make thee be bloody-minded,
Thy name is Gualtier, being rightly sounded

Whit. Gualtier or Walter, which it is I care not,
Neuer yet did base dishonour blurre our name,
But with our sword we wip'd away the blot.
Therefore, when Merchant-like I sell reuenge,
Broke be my sword, my Armes torne and defac'd,
And I proclaim'd a Coward through the world

Suf. Stay Whitmore, for thy Prisoner is a Prince,
The Duke of Suffolke, William de la Pole

Whit. The Duke of Suffolke, muffled vp in ragges?
Suf. I, but these ragges are no part of the Duke

Lieu. But Ioue was neuer slaine as thou shalt be,
Obscure and lowsie Swaine, King Henries blood

Suf. The honourable blood of Lancaster