No, nor your nature neither, though they are things fitter I confesse for anything, then my remembrance, or anie honestmans, what shall these billets doe, be pilde up in my Wood-yard? _Bes_. Your Lordship holds your mirth still, God continue it: but for these Gentlemen they come. _Bac_. To sweare you are a Coward, spare your Booke, I doe beleeve it. _Bes_. Your Lordship still drawes wide, they come to vouch under their valiant hands, I am no Coward. _Bac_. That would be a shew indeed worth seeing: sirra be wise and take money for this motion, travell with it, and where the name of _Bessus_ has been knowne, or a good Coward stirring, twill yeeld more then a tilting. This will prove more beneficiall to you, if you be thriftie, then your Captaineship, and more naturall; Men of most valiant hands is this true? _2_. It is so most renowned, Tis somewhat strange. _1_. Lord, it is strange, yet true; wee have examined from your Lordships foote there to this mans head, the nature of the beatings; and we doe find his honour is come off cleane, and sufficient: This as our swords shall helpe us. _Bac_. You are much bound to you bilbow-men, I am glad you are straight again Captaine: twere good you would thinke some way to gratifie them, they have undergone a labour for you _Bessus_, would have puzzled _hercules_, with all his valour. _2_. Your Lordship must understand we are no men ath' Law, that take pay for our opinions: it is sufficient wee have cleer'd our friend. _Bac_. Yet here is something due, which I as toucht in conscience will discharge Captaine; Ile pay this rent for you. _Bess_. Spare your selfe my good Lord; my brave friends aime at nothing but the vertue. _Bac_. Thats but a cold discharge Sir for their paines. _2_. 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; ye rogues, ye apple-squiers: doe you come hether with your botled valour, your windie frothe, to limit out my beatings. _1_. I doe beseech your Lordship. _2_. O good Lord. _Bac_. Sfoote, what a many of beaten slaves are here? get me a cudgell sirra, and a tough one. _2_. More of your foot, I doe beseech your Lordship. _Bac_. You shall, you shall dog, and your fellow beagle. _1_. A this side good my Lord. _Bac_. Off with your swords, for if you hurt my foote, Ile have you fleade you rascals. _1_. Mines off my Lord. _2_. I beseech your Lordship stay a little, my strap's tied to my codpiece point: Now when you please. _Bac_. Captaine, these are your valiant friends, you long for a little too? _Bess_. I am verie well, I humblie thanke your Lordship. _Bac_. Whats that in your pocket slave, my key you mungrell? thy buttocks cannot be so hard, out with't quicklie. _2_.