_Thier._ Nay _Martel[l]_ You must not fall off.
_Mart._ Oh Sir, fear it not, Doe you know this sword?
_Mart._ Pray you on what terms Did you part with it?
_Thier._ Nay, study not an answer, confess freely.
_Prot._ Oh I remember't now at the Stags [fall], As we to day were hunting, a poor fellow, And now I view you better, I may say Much of your pitch: this silly wretch I spoke of With his petition falling at my feet, (Which much against my Will he kist,) desir'd That as a special means for his preferment I would vouchsafe to let him use my sword, To cut off the Stags head.
_Bawdb._ This Lye bears a similitude of Truth.
_Prot._ I ever courteous, (a great weakness in me) Granted his humble suit.
_Mart._ A word with you, Deny it not, I was that man disguis'd, You know my temper, and as you respect A daily cudgeling for one whole year, Without a second pulling by the ears, Or tweaks by th' nose, or the most precious balm You us'd of patience, patience do you mark me, Confess before these Kings with what base fear Thou didst deliver it.
_Prot._ Oh, I sh[all] burst, And if I have not instant liberty To tear this fellow limb by limb, the wrong Will break my heart, although _Herculean_, And somewhat bigger; there's my gage, pray you he[re], Let me redeem my credit.
_Mart._ Pray you let me take it up, and if I do not, Against all odds of Armor and of Weapons, With this make him confess it on his knees Cut off my head.
_Bawdb._ Fie, you take the Hangmans place.
_Ordel._ Nay, good my Lord Let me attone this difference, do not suffer Our bridal night to be the Centaurs Feast. [You are] a Knight, and bound by oath to grant All just suits unto Ladies; for my sake Forget your suppos'd wrong.
_Prot._ Well let him thank you, For your sake he shall live, perhaps a day, And may be, on submission longer.
_Theod._ Nay _Martel[l]_ you must be patient.
_Mart._ I am yours, And this slave shall be once more mine.
_Thier._ Sit all; One health, and so to bed, for I too long Deferr my choicest delicates.
_Brun._ Which if poison Have any power, thou shalt like _Tantalus_ Behold and never taste, be careful.
_Brun._ Though it be rare in our Sex, yet for once I will begin a health.
_Brun. Lecure_, the cup; here to the son we hope This night shall be an Embrion.