Doe you watch me when my Uncle is absent? 
This is my griefe, I shall be flesht on Cowards;
Teach me to fight, I willing am to learne. 
Are ye all gilded flies, nothing but shew in ye? 
Why stand ye gaping? who now touches her? 
Who calls her his, or who dares name her to me? 
But name her as his owne; who dares look on her? 
That shall be mortal too; but think, ’tis dangerous. 
Art thou a fit man to inherit land,
And hast no wit nor spirit to maintaine it? 
Stand still thou signe of man, and pray for thy friends,
Pray heartilie, good prayers may restore ye.

Ang. But doe not kill ’em Sir. Cha. You speak too late, Deare,
It is my first fight, and I must doe bravely,
I must not looke with partial eyes on any;
I cannot spare a button of these Gentlemen;
Did life lye in their heel Achilles like,
Ide shoot my anger at those parts and kill ’um. 
Who waits within? Ser. Sir. Cha. View all these, view ’em well
Goe round a bout ’em and still view their faces,
Round about yet; See how death waits upon ’em,
For thou shall never view ’em more. Eust. Pray hold, Sir.

Cha. I cannot hold, you stand so fair before me,
I must not hold ’twill darken all my glories. 
Goe to my Uncle, bid him poste to the King,
And get my pardon instantly, I have need on’t.

Eust. Are you so unnatural? Cha. You shall die last Sir, Ile talke thee dead, thou art no man to fight with.  Come, will ye come? me thinkes I’ve fought whole battailes.

Cow.  We have no quarel to you, that we know on, Sir.

Egre.  Wee’l quit the house and ask ye mercie too: 
Good Ladie, let no murther be done here;
We came but to parly. Cha.  How my sword
Thirsts after them? stand away Sweet. Eust. Pray Sir,
Take my submission, and I disclaime for ever.

Cha.  Away ye poore things, ye despicable Creatures! 
Doe you come poste to fetch a Ladie from me,
From a poore Schoole-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 ye bring to carrie her. Egre.  A Coach and four horses.

Cha.  But are they good? Egre.  As good as France can shew Sir.

Cha.  Are you willing to leave those, and take your safeties?  Speak quickly. Eust.  Yes with all our hearts. Cha.  Tis done then.  Many have got one horse, I’ve got foure by th’ bargaine.

      Enter Miramont.

Mi. How Now, who’s here. Ser.  Nay Now, y’are gon without bail.

Mir.  What, drawne 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 doe my dutie.