JACK. Thou began’st first; didst thou now not say even now, That Carisophus my master was no man but a cow, In taking so many blows, and gave[89] never a blow again? WILL. I said so indeed, he is but a tame ruffian, That can swear by his flask and twich-box,[90] and God’s precious lady, And yet will be beaten with a faggot-stick. These barking whelps were never good biters, Ne yet great crakers were ever great fighters: But seeing you egg me so much, I will somewhat more recite; I say, Carisophus thy master is a flatt’ring parasite; Gleaning away the sweet from the worthy in all the court. What tragedy hath he moved of late? the devil take him! he doth much hurt. JACK. I pray you, what is Aristippus thy master, is not he a parasite too, That with scoffing and jesting in the court makes so much a-do? WILL. He is no parasite, but a pleasant gentleman full of courtesy. Thy master is a churlish lout, the heir of a dung-fork; as void of honesty As thou art of honour. JACK. Nay, if you will needs be prating of my master still, In faith I must cool you, my friend, dapper Will: Take this at the beginning. [_Strikes him._ WILL. Praise well your winning, my pantable is as ready as yours. JACK. By the mass, I will box you. WILL. By Cock, I will fox you. JACK. Will, was I with you? WILL. Jack, did I fly? JACK. Alas, pretty cockerel, you are too weak; WILL. In faith, doating dottrel,[91] you will cry creak. _Here entereth_ SNAP. SNAP. Away, you crack-ropes, are you fighting at the court-gate? And I take you here again, I will swinge you both: what! [_Exit._ JACK. I beshrew Snap the tipstaff, that great knave’s heart, that hither did come, Had he not been, you had cried ere this, _Victus, victa, victum_: But seeing we have breathed ourselves, if ye list, Let us agree like friends, and shake each other by the fist. WILL. Content am I, for I am not malicious; but on this condition, That you talk no more so broad of my master as here you have done. But who have we here? ’tis Coals I spy[92] coming yonder. JACK. Will, let us slip aside and view him well. _Here entereth_ GRIM _the Collier, whistling._ GRIM. What devil! ich ween the porters are drunk, will they not dup[93] the gate to-day? [To] take in coals for the king’s own mouth;[94] will nobody stir, I say? Ich might have lain tway hours longer in my bed, Cha tarried so long here, that my teeth chatter in my head. JACK. Will, after our falling out wilt thou laugh merrily? WILL. Ay, marry, Jack, I pray thee heartily. JACK. Then follow me, and hem in a word now and then-- What brawling knave is there at the court-gate so early? WILL. It is some brainsick villain, I durst lay a penny.