Leo.  And wilt thou ne’re fight more?

Lieu.  I’th’ mind I am in.

Leo.  Nor never be sick again?

Lieu.  I hope I shall not.

Leo.  Prethee be sick again:  prethee, I beseech thee, Be just so sick again.

Lieu.  I’le just be hang’d first.

Leo.  If all the Arts that are can make a Colique, Therefore look to’t:  or if imposthumes, mark me, As big as foot-balls—­

Lieu.  Deliver me.

Leo.  Or stones of ten pound weight i’th’ kidneys,
Through ease and ugly dyets may be gather’d;
I’le feed ye up my self Sir, I’le prepare ye,
You cannot fight, unless the Devil tear ye,
You shall not want provocations, I’le scratch ye,
I’le have thee have the tooth-ach, and the head-ach.

Lieu.  Good Colonel, I’le doe any thing.

Leo.  No, no, nothing—­ Then will I have thee blown with a pair of Smiths bellows, Because ye shall be sure to have a round gale with ye, Fill’d full of oyle o’Devil, and Aqua-fortis, And let these work, these may provoke.

Lieu.  Good Colonel.

Leo.  A coward in full bloud; prethee be plain with me, Will roasting doe thee any good?

Lieu.  Nor basting neither, Sir.

Leo.  Marry that goes hard.

Enter 1 Gentleman.

1 Gent.  Where are you Colonel? 
The Prince experts ye Sir; h’as hedg’d the enemy
Within a streight, where all the hopes and valours
Of all men living cannot force a passage,
He has ’em now.

Leo.  I knew all this before Sir, I chalk’d him out his way:  but do you see that thing there?

Lieu.  Nay good sweet Colonel, I’le fight a little.

Leo.  That thing?

1 Gent.  What thing?  I see the brave Lieutenant.

Leo.  Rogue, what a name hast thou lost?

Lieu.  You may help it, Yet you may help’t:  I’le doe ye any courtesie:  I know you love a wench well.

Enter 2 Gentlemen.

Leo.  Look upon him; Do you look too.

2 Gent.  What should I look on?  I come to tell ye, the Prince stayes your direction, We have ’em now i’th’ Coop, Sir.

Leo.  Let ’em rest there, And chew upon their miseries:  but look first—­

Lieu.  I cannot fight for all this.

Leo.  Look on this fellow.

2 Gent.  I know him; ’tis the valiant brave Lieutenant. 
Leo.  Canst thou hear this, and play the Rogue? steal off quickly,
Behind me quickly neatly do it,
And rush into the thickest of the enemy,
And if thou kill’st but two.

Lieu.  You may excuse me, ’Tis not my fault:  I dare not fight.

Leo.  Be rul’d yet, I’le beat thee on; goe wink and fight:  a plague upon your sheeps heart.