Come, will ye come? Me-thinks I've fought whole Battels.
_Cow_. We have no quarrel to you that we know on, Sir.
_Egre_. We'll quit the house, and ask ye mercy too. Good Lady, let no
murther be done here; we came but to parly.
_Char_. How my sword thirsts after them! Stand away, Sweet.
_Eust_. Pray, Sir, take my submission, and I disclaim for ever.
_Char_. Away, ye poor things, ye despicable creatures! do you come poste
to fetch a Lady from me? from a poor School-boy that ye scorn'd of late,
and grow lame in your hearts when you should execute? Pray take her, take
her, I am weary of her: What did you bring to carry her?
_Egre_. A Coach and four Horses.
_Char_. But are they good?
_Egre_. As good as France can shew Sir.
_Char_. Are you willing to leave those, and take your safeties? Speak
quickly.
_Eust_. Yes with all our hearts.
_Char_. 'Tis done then. Many have got one Horse, I've got four by th'
bargain.
_Enter_ Miramont.
_Mir_. How now, who's here?
_Ser_. Nay, now y'are gone without bail.
_Mir_. What, drawn, my Friends? Fetch me my two-hand Sword; I will not
leave a head on your shoulders, Wretches.
_Eust_. In troth, Sir, I came but to do my duty.
_Both_. And we to renew our loves.
_Mir_. Bring me a Blanket. What came they for?
_Ang_. To borrow me a while, Sir; but one that never fought yet, has so
curri'd, so bastinado'd them with manly carriage, they stand like things
_Gorgon_ had turn'd to stone: they watch'd your being absent, and then
thought they might do wonders here, and they have done so; for by my troth
I wonder at their coldness, the nipping North or Frost never came near
them; St _George_ upon a sign would grow more sensible.
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