unconfinable

Reason , you rogue , reason . Think’st thou I’ll
endanger my soul gratis ? At a word , hang no more
about me . I am no gibbet for you . Go — a short
knife and a throng — to your manor of Pickt-hatch ,
go . You’ll not bear a letter for me , you rogue ? You
stand upon your honor ? Why , thou unconfinable
baseness , it is as much as I can do to keep the
terms of my honor precise . Ay , ay , I myself sometimes ,
leaving the fear of God on the left hand
and hiding mine honor in my necessity , am fain to
shuffle , to hedge , and to lurch ; and yet you , rogue ,
will ensconce your rags , your cat-a-mountain
looks , your red-lattice phrases , and your bold beating
oaths under the shelter of your honor ! You will
not do it ? You ?