Another part of the island.
How does thy honour? Let me lick thy shoe. I’ll not serve him; he’s not valiant.
Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou: I would my valiant master would destroy thee! I do not lie.
I say, by sorcery he got this isle; From me he got it. If thy greatness will Revenge it on him—for I know thou darest, But this thing dare not—
Yea, yea, my lord: I’ll yield him thee asleep, Where thou mayst knock a nail into his head.
What a pied ninny’s this! Thou scurvy patch! I do beseech thy greatness, give him blows And take his bottle from him: when that’s gone He shall drink nought but brine; for I’ll not show him Where the quick freshes are.