ow, why is this laughter?

_Fer_. One of the soldiers, being merry among themselves, is somewhat
bold with th'_English_, and sayes th'are dainty Hennes.

_All_. [_Alq_.?] Hens! ha, ha, ha!

_Mac_. Sirra, view well these soldiers,
And freely telle us, thinke you these will prove
Such hens as are your _English_, when next yeare
They land in your owne Country.

_Pike_. I thinke they will not,
My lord, prove hens, but somewhat neere to hens.

_Mac_. How mean'st thou?

_Pike_. Let my speech breed no offence:
I thinke they would prove pulletts.

_Gyr_. Dar'st thou fight
With any one of these our _Spanish_ pulletts?

_Pike_. What heart have I to fight when tis beaten flatt
To earth with sad afflictions? can a prisoner
Glory in playing the Fencer? my life's at stake
Allready; can I putt it in for more?
Our army was some 14000 men
Of which more than 12000 had spirits so high
Mine never shall come neere them: would some of them
Were here to feed your expectations!
Yet, silly as I am, having faire pardon
From all your Graces and your Greatnesses,
Ile try if I have strength in this chayned arme
To breake a rapier.

_Mac_. Knock off all his gyves;
And he that has a stomacke for _Spaines_ honour
To combate with this _Englishman_, appeare.

_Pike_. May he be never calld an _Englishman_
That dares not looke a divell in the face, [_One stepps forth_.
Come he in face of man, come how he can.

_Mac_. Your name?

_Tia_. _Tiago_.

_All_. Well done _Tiago_.

_Mac_. Let drums beate all the time they fight.

_Lady_. I pray for thee.

_Gent_. And I.

[_They fight: Pike disarmes & tripps him downe_.

_Pike_. Onely a _Devonshire_ hugg, sir:--at your feete
I lay my winnings.

_Tia_. Diable!

[_Exit, biting his thumb[44]; the soldiers stampe_.

_Gyr_. Wilt venter on oanother?

_Pike_. I beseech you
To pardon me, and taske me to no more.

_Alq_. Come, come, one more; looke you, here's a young Cockerell[45]
Comes crowing into the pitt.
[_Another steps in_.

_All_. Prithee, fight with him.

_Pike_. I'me in the Lyon's gripe & to gett from him
There's but one way; that's death.

_Mac_. _English_, What say you? will you fight or no?

_Pike_. Ile fight.

_All_. Give 'em roome! make way there!

_Pike_. Ile fight till every Joynt be cutt