_Prot._ I would not leave you, but look you Sir, Men of my place and business, must not Be question'd thus.
_Mart._ You cannot pass Sir, Now they have seen me with you without danger. They are here Sir, within hearing, take but two.
_Prot._ Let the law take 'em; take a tree Sir I'll take my horse, that you may keep with safety, If they have brought no hand-saws, within this hour I'll send you rescue, and a toyl to take 'em.
_Mart._ You shall not goe so poorly, stay but one Sir.
_Prot._ I have been so hamper'd with these rescues, So hew'd an[d] tortur'd, that the truth is Sir, I have mainly vowd against 'em, yet for your sake, If as you say there be but one, I'll stay, And see fair play o' both sides.
_Mart._ There is no More Sir, and as I doubt a base one too.
_Prot._ Fie on him, goe lug him out by th' ears.
_Mart._ Yes, This is he Sir, the basest in the kingdome.
_Mart._ Yes, for a generall fool, A knave, a coward, and upstart stallion baw[d], Beast, barking puppy, that dares not bite.
_Prot._ The best man best knows patience.
_Mart._ Yes, This way Sir, now draw your sword, and right you, Or render it to me, for one you shall doe.
_Pro._ If wearing it may do you any honor, I shall be glad to grace you, there it is Sir.
_Mart._ Now get you home, and tell your Lady Mistris, Shee has shot up a sweet mushrum; quit your place too, And say you are counsel'd well, thou wilt be beaten else By thine own lanceprisadoes; when they know thee, That tuns of oyl of roses will not cure thee; Goe get you to your foyning work at Court, And learn to sweat again, and eat dry mutton; An armor like a frost will search your bones And make you roar you rogue; Not a reply, For if you doe, your ears goe off.
_Enter Thierry, Ordella, Brunhalt, Theodoret, Lecure,_ _Bawd[b]er, &c._
_Thier._ It is your place, and though in all things else You may and ever shall command me, yet In this I'll be obeyed.
_Ordella._ Sir, the consent, That made me yours, shall never teach me to Repent I am so; yet be you but pleas'd To give me leave to say so much; The honor You offer me were better given to her, To whom you owe the power of giving.
_Thier._ Mother, You hear this and rejoyce in such a blessing That payes to you so large a share of duty, But fie no more, for as you hold a place Nearer my heart than she, you must sit nearest To all those graces, that are in the power Of Majesty to bestow.