A King, and No King Part 60

That would be a shew indeed worth seeing: sirra be wise and take money for this motion, travell with it, and where the name of _Bessus_ has been knowne, or a good Coward stirring, twill yeeld more then a tilting. This will prove more beneficiall to you, if you be thriftie, then your Captaines.h.i.+p, and more naturall; Men of most valiant hands is this true?

_2_.

It is so most renowned, Tis somewhat strange.

_1_.

Lord, it is strange, yet true; wee have examined from your Lords.h.i.+ps foote there to this mans head, the nature of the beatings; and we doe find his honour is come off cleane, and sufficient: This as our swords shall helpe us.

 

_Bac_.

You are much bound to you bilbow-men, I am glad you are straight again Captaine: twere good you would thinke some way to gratifie them, they have undergone a labour for you _Bessus_, would have puzzled _hercules_, with all his valour.

_2_.

Your Lords.h.i.+p must understand we are no men ath' Law, that take pay for our opinions: it is sufficient wee have cleer'd our friend.

_Bac_.

Yet here is something due, which I as toucht in conscience will discharge Captaine; Ile pay this rent for you.

_Bess_.

Spare your selfe my good Lord; my brave friends aime at nothing but the vertue.

_Bac_.

Thats but a cold discharge Sir for their paines.

_2_.

O Lord, my good Lord.

_Bac_.

Be not so modest, I will give you something.

_Bes_.

They shall dine with your Lords.h.i.+p, that's sufficient.

_Bac_.

Something in hand the while; ye rogues, ye apple-squiers: doe you come hether with your botled valour, your windie frothe, to limit out my beatings.

_1_.

I doe beseech your Lords.h.i.+p.

_2_.

O good Lord.

_Bac_.

Sfoote, what a many of beaten slaves are here? get me a cudgell sirra, and a tough one.

_2_.

More of your foot, I doe beseech your Lords.h.i.+p.

_Bac_.

You shall, you shall dog, and your fellow beagle.

_1_.

A this side good my Lord.

_Bac_.

Off with your swords, for if you hurt my foote, Ile have you fleade you rascals.

_1_.

Mines off my Lord.

_2_.

I beseech your Lords.h.i.+p stay a little, my strap's tied to my codpiece point: Now when you please.

_Bac_.

Captaine, these are your valiant friends, you long for a little too?

_Bess_.

I am verie well, I humblie thanke your Lords.h.i.+p.

_Bac_.

Whats that in your pocket slave, my key you mungrell? thy b.u.t.tocks cannot be so hard, out with't quicklie.

_2_.

Here tis Sir, a small piece of Artillerie, that a gentleman a deare friend of your Lords.h.i.+ps sent me with to get it mended Sir; for it you marke, the nose is somewhat loose.

_Bac_.