Let that go:
My haste is very great. Farewell; hie home.
Pray, sir, your pardon.
Well, what would you say?
I am not worthy of the wealth I owe;
Nor dare I say 'tis mine, and yet it is;
But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal
What law does vouch mine own.
What would you have?
Something; and scarce so much: — nothing, indeed. —
I would not tell you what I would, my lord: — Faith, yes; —
Strangers and foes do sunder and not kiss.
I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse.
I shall not break your bidding, good my lord.
Where are my other men, monsieur? —
Go thou toward home, where I will never come
Whilst I can shake my sword or hear the drum: —
Away, and for our flight.