Whence comes that letter?

Ste. From abroad.

Clif. Which is it?

Ste. So please you, this, Sir Thomas.

Clif. Give it me.

Ste. That letter brings not news to wish him joy upon. If he was
disturbed before, which I guessed by his looks he was, he is not
more at ease now. His hand to his head! A most unwelcome letter!
If it brings him news of disaster, fortune does not give him his
deserts; for never waited servant upon a kinder master.

Clif. Stephen!

Ste. Sir Thomas!

Clif. From my door remove
The plate that bears my name.

Ste. The plate, Sir Thomas!

Clif. The plate--collect my servants and instruct them
To make out each their claims, unto the end
Of their respective terms, and give them in
To my steward. Him and them apprise, good fellow,
That I keep house no more. As you go home,