That would be a show indeed worth seeing: sirra be wise, and take Mony for this motion, travel with it, and where the name of _Bessus_ has been known or a good Coward stirring, 'twill yield more than a tilting. This will prove more beneficial to you, if you be thrifty, than your Captainship, and more natural: men of most valiant hands is this true? _2 Sword_. It is so, most renowned. _Bac_. 'Tis somewhat strange. _1 Sword_. Lord, it is strange, yet true; we have examined from your Lordships foot there, to this mans head, the nature of the beatings; and we do find his honour is come off clean and sufficient: this as our swords shall help us. _Bac_. You are much bound to your Bil-bow-men, I am glad you are straight again Captain; 'twere good you would think on some way to gratifie them, they have undergone a labour for you, _Bessus_ would have puzl'd _hercules_ with all his valour. _2 Sword_. Your Lordship must understand we are no men o'th' Law, that take pay for our opinions: it is sufficient we have clear'd our friend. _Bac_. Yet there is something due, which I as toucht in Conscience will discharge Captain; I'le pay this Rent for you. _Bes_. Spare your self my good Lord; my brave friends aim at nothing but the vertue. _Bac_. That's but a cold discharge Sir for the pains. _2 Sword_. 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, you Rogues, you Apple-squires: do you come hither with your botled valour, your windy froth, to limit out my beatings? _1 Sword_. I do beseech your Lordship. _2 Sword_. O good Lord. _Bac_. S'foot-what a heavy of beaten slaves are here! get me a Cudgel sirra, and a tough one. _2 Sword_. More of your foot, I do beseech your Lordship. _Bac_. You shall, you shall dog, and your fellow-beagle. _1 Sword_. O' this side good my Lord. _Bac_. Off with your swords, for if you hurt my foot, I'le have you flead you Rascals. _1 Sword_. Mine's off my Lord. _2 Sword_. I beseech your Lordship stay a little, my strap's tied to my Cod piece-point: now when you please. _Bac_. Captain these are your valiant friends, you long for a little too? _Bes_. I am very well, I humbly thank your Lordship. _Bac_. What's that in your pocket, hurts my Toe you Mungril? Thy Buttocks cannot be so hard, out with it quickly. _2 Sword_. Here 'tis Sir, a small piece of Artillery, that a Gentleman a dear friend of your Lordships sent me with, to get it mended Sir, for if you mark, the nose is somewhat loose. _Bac_. A friend of mine you Rascal? I was never wearier of doing any thing, than kicking these two Foot-balls. _Enter_ Servant. _Serv_. Here is a good Cudgel Sir. _Bac_. It comes too late I'me weary, pray thee do thou beat them. _2 Sword_.