I would vouchsafe to let him use my sword,
To cut off the Stags head.
Brun. Will you hear that?
Bawdb. This Lye bears a similitude of Truth.
Prot. I ever courteous, (a great weakness in me)
Granted his humble suit.
Mart. Oh impudence!
Thier. This change is excellent.
Mart. A word with you,
Deny it not, I was that man disguis'd,
You know my temper, and as you respect
A daily cudgeling for one whole year,
Without a second pulling by the ears,
Or tweaks by th' nose, or the most precious balm
You us'd of patience, patience do you mark me,
Confess before these Kings with what base fear
Thou didst deliver it.
Prot. Oh, I sh[all] burst,
And if I have not instant liberty
To tear this fellow limb by limb, the wrong
Will break my heart, although Herculean,
And somewhat bigger; there's my gage, pray you he[re],
Let me redeem my credit.
Thier. Ha, ha, forbear.
Mart. Pray you let me take it up, and if I do not,
Against all odds of Armor and of Weapons,
With this make him confess it on his knees
Cut off my head.
Prot. No, that's my office.
Bawdb. Fie, you take the Hangmans place.
Ordel. Nay, good my Lord
Let me attone this difference, do not suffer
Our bridal night to be the Centaurs Feast.
[You are] a Knight, and bound by oath to grant
All just suits unto Ladies; for my sake
Forget your suppos'd wrong.
Prot. Well let him thank you,
For your sake he shall live, perhaps a day,
And may be, on submission longer.
Theod. Nay Martel[l] you must be patient.
Mart. I am yours,
And this slave shall be once more mine.
Thier. Sit all;
One health, and so to bed, for I too long
Deferr my choicest delicates.
Brun. Which if poison
Have any power, thou shalt like Tantalus
Behold and never taste, be careful.
Lecu. Fear not.
Brun. Though it be rare in our Sex, yet for once
I will begin a health.
Thier. Let it come freely.
Brun. Lecure, the cup; here to the son we hope
This night shall be an Embrion.
Thier. You have nam'd
A blessing that I most desir'd, I pledge you;
Give me a larger cup, that is too little
Unto so great a god.
Brun. Nay, then you wrong me,
Follow as I began.
Thier. Well as you please.
Brun. Is't done?
Lecu. Unto your wish I warrant you,
For this night I durst trust him with my Mother.
Thier. So 'tis gone round, lights.
Brun. Pray you use my service.
Ordel. 'Tis that which I shall ever owe you, Madam,
And must have none from you, pray [you] pardon me.
Thier. Good rest to all.
Theod. And to [you] pleasant labour. Mart[ell]
Your company, Madam, good night.
Brun. Nay, you have cause to blush, but I will hide it,
And what's more, I forgive you; is't not pity
That thou that art the first to enter combate
With any Woman, and what is more, o'ercome her,
In which she is best pleas'd, should be so [fearefull]
To meet a man.
Prot. Why would you have me lose
That bloud that is dedicated to your service
In any other quarrel?
Brun. No, reserve it,
As I will study to preserve thy credit:
You sirrah, be't your care to find out one
That is poor, though valiant, that at any rate
Will, to redeem my servants reputation,
Receive a publique baffling.
Bawdb. Would your Highness
Were pleas'd to inform me better of your purpose.
Brun. Why one, Sir, that would thus be box'd
Or kick'd, do you apprehend me now?
Bawdb. I feel you Madam,
The man that shall receive this from my Lord,
Shall have a thousand crowns.
Pro. He shall.
Bawdb. Besides
His day of bastinadoing past o'er,
He shall not lose your grace, nor your good favour?
Brun. That shall make way to it.
Bawdb. It must be a man
Of credit in the Court, that is to be
The foil unto your v[a]lour.
Prot. True, it should.
Bawdb. And if he have place there, 'tis not the worse.
Brun. 'Tis much the better.
Bawdb. If he be a Lord,
'Twill be the greater grace.
Brun. Thou art in the right.
Bawdb. Why then behold that valiant man and Lord,
That for your sake will take a cudgeling:
For be assur'd, when it is spread abroad
That you have dealt with me, they'll give you out
For one of the Nine Worthies.
Brun. Out you pandar,
Why, to beat thee is only exercise
For such as do affect it, lose not time
In vain replies, but do it: come my solace
Let us to bed, and our desires once quench'd
We'll there determine of Theodorets death
For he's the Engine us'd to ruin us;
Yet one wor[d] more, Lecure, art thou assur'd
The potion will work?
Lecure. My life upon it.
Brun. Come my Protaldye, then glut me with
Those best delights of man, that are deny'd
To her that does expect them, being a Bride.