Look, he is wringing it still.

Friend Bolle, leave go, or presently you will have in your hand that which is of no value to you.

Guard, take this beer-tub and hold his head beneath the pump for five minutes by the clock to wash him, and if he comes back again set him in the stocks.

Nay, no words, fellow, you are well served.
Master Smith, follow me with your party." Again the crowd parted as they walked after Cromwell to a side door that was near at hand, to find themselves alone with him in a small chamber.
Here he stopped and, turning, surveyed them all narrowly, especially Cicely.
"I suppose, Master Smith," he said, pointing to Bolle, who was wiping his hands clean with the rushes from the floor, "this is the man that you told me played the devil yonder at Blossholme.

Well, he can play the fool also.