_Jac._ I am somewhat bold, but that's all one.
_Clor._ A short and pithy saying of a Souldier.
_Fra._ A[s] I live Thou art a strange mad wench.
_Clora._ How he wipes his mouth like a young Preacher; We shall have it.
_Jac._ In order as you lye before me; first I'le begin with you.
_Fra._ If you will promise me to kiss in ease, I care not if I venture.
_Jac._ I will kiss according to mine own inventions As I shall see cause; sweetly I would wish you, I love ye.
_Jac._ Yes indeed do I, Would I could tell you how.
_Jac._ I would to Heaven I could, but 'tis sufficient, I love you with my heart.
_Jac._ And I am sorry; but we'l talk of that Hereafter, if it please Heaven.
_Clor._ He's dismal drunk, would he were muzled.
_Jac._ Nay, and you play bo-peep; I'le ha' no mercy But catch as catch may.
_Clor._ Good Captain do not hurt me, I am sorry That e're I anger'd ye.
_Jac._ I'le tew you for't By this hand wit, unless you kiss discreetly.
_Jac._ Yes a little more sweet wit, One tast more o' your office: go thy wayes With thy small kettle Drums; upon my conscience Thou art the best, that e're man laid his leg o'er.
_Clor._ He smells just like a Cellar, Fye upon him.
_Jac._ Pray be not coy sweet woman, for I'le kiss ye, I am blunt But you must pardon me.
_Jac._ Why ha, ha, ha? why laugh? Why all this noise sweet Ladyes?
_Clor._ Lusty _Laurence_, See what a Gentlewoman you have saluted; Pray God she prove not quick.
_Fred._ Where were thine eyes To take me for a woman? ha, ha, ha.
_Jac._ Then _Frederick_ is an Asse, A scurvy _Frederick_ to laugh at me.
_Jac._ Away woman; Go stitch and serve, [God,] I despise thee woman, And _Frederick_ shall be beaten; 'Sfut ye Rogue Have you none else to make your puppies of, but me?
_Fred._ I pre'thee be more patient There's no hurt done.
_Fred._ So now you have made a fair hand.
_Fred._ You have kill'd me-- [_Fall as kill'd._
_Clor._ Call in some Officers, and stay the Captain.
_Fra._ O me, unhappy Brother, _Frederick_, Look but upon me, do not part so from me, Set him a little higher, he is dead.
_Fra._ O Sir my Brother! O my dearest Brother!
_Clor._ This drunken trowgh has kill'd him.
_Clor._ Yes. For Heavens sake hang him quickly, he will do Ev'ry day such a murder else, there is nothing But a strong Gallows that can make him quiet, I finde it in his nature too late.