your living.

WAGNER. Sirrah, I say in staves-acre.

CLOWN. Oho, oho, staves-acre! why, then, belike, if I were your
man, I should be full of vermin.<70>

WAGNER. So thou shalt, whether thou beest with me or no. But,
sirrah, leave your jesting, and bind yourself presently unto me
for seven years, or I'll turn all the lice about thee into
familiars,<71> and they shall tear thee in pieces.

CLOWN. Do you hear, sir? you may save that labour; they are too
familiar with me already: swowns, they are as bold with my flesh
as if they had paid for their<72> meat and drink.

WAGNER. Well, do you hear, sirrah? hold, take these guilders.
[Gives money.]

CLOWN. Gridirons! what be they?

WAGNER. Why, French crowns.

CLOWN. Mass, but for the name of French crowns, a man were as good
have as many English counters. And what should I do with these?

WAGNER. Why, now, sirrah, thou art at an hour's warning, whensoever
or wheresoever the devil shall fetch thee.

CLOWN. No, no; here, take your gridirons again.