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 Lordship 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 Lordship, 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 Lordship.

_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 Lordship.

_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 Lordship 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 Lordship.

_Bac_.

Whats that in your pocket slave, my key you mungrell? thy
buttocks 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 Lordships sent me with to get it mended Sir;
for it you marke, the nose is somewhat loose.

_Bac_.

A friend of mine you rascall, I was never wearier of doing
nothing, then kicking these two foote-bals.

_Ser_.

Heres a good cudgell Sir.

_Bac_.

It comes too late; I am wearie, prethee doe thou beate um.

_2_.

My Lord this