ould have weapons would he? give him a
Broad-side my brave boyes with your pikes, branch me
his skin in Flowers like a Satin, and between every
Flower a mortal cut, your Royalty shall ravel, jag him
Gentlemen, I'le have him cut to the kell, then down
the seames, oh for a whip To make him Galoone-Laces,
I'le have a Coach-whip.

_Pha_. O spare me Gentlemen.

_Cap_. Hold, hold, the man begins to fear and know himself,
He shall for this time only be seal'd up
With a Feather through his nose, that he may only see
Heaven, and think whither he's going,
Nay beyond-Sea Sir, we will proclaim you, you would
be King Thou tender Heir apparent to a Church-Ale,
Thou sleight Prince of single Sarcenet;
Thou Royal Ring-tail, fit to fly at nothing
But poor mens Poultry, and have every Boy
Beat thee from that too with his Bread and Butter.

_Pha_. Gods keep me from these Hell-hounds.

_2 Cit_. Shall's geld him Captain?

_Cap_. No, you shall spare his dowcets my dear Donsels,
As you respect the Ladies let them flourish;
The curses of a longing woman kill as speedy as a
Plague, Boys.

_1 Cit_. I'le have a Leg that's certain.

_2 Cit_. I'le have an Arm.

_3 Cit_. I'le have his Nose, and at mine own charge build
a Colledge, and clap't upon the Gate.

_4 Cit_. I'le have his little Gut to string a Kit with,
For certainly a Royal Gut will sound like silver.

_Pha_. Would they were in thy belly, and I past my pain once.

_5 Cit_. Good Captain let me have his Liver to feed Ferrets.

_Cap_. Who will have parcels else? speak.

_Pha_. Good gods consider me, I shall be tortur'd.

_1 Cit_. Captain, I'le give you the trimming of your hand-sword,
and let me have his Skin to make false Scabbards.

_2_. He had no horns Sir had he?

_Cap_. No Sir, he's a Pollard, what would'st thou do with horns?

_Cit_. O if he had, I would have made rare Hafts and
Whistles of 'em, but his Shin-bones if they be sound shall
serve me.

[_Enter_ Philaster.

_All_.