CAPT. PUFF. Are not her bulwarks, parapets, trenches, Scarps, counter-scarps,[389] fortifications, Curtains, shadows, mines, counter-mines, Rampiers,[390] forts, ditches, works, water-works, And is not her half-moon mine? and do you bring A rescue, goodman knight? TAF. Call up my men. _Enter_ O. SMALL, _and two or three others with clubs_. Where be these knaves? bare they no ears or hearts? Bear hence this rascal; some other fetch a warrant: I'll teach him to know himself. JUS. TUT. Down with the slave. O. SMALL. Tis not your beard shall carry it; down with the rogue. CAPT. PUFF. Not Hercules 'gainst twenty. [_Exit_ PUFF. JUS. TUT. Ah, sirrah! I knew[391] my hands no longer could forbear him: Why did you not strike the knave, Sir Oliver? O. SMALL. Why, so I did. JUS. TUT. But then it was too late. O. SMALL. What would you have me do, when I was down, And he stood thundering with his weapon drawn, _Enter_ ADRIANA. Ready to cut my throat? ADRI. The rogue is gone, And here's one from the lady Sommerfield. To intreat you come with all the speed you can To Saint John's Street. JUS. TUT. Which I will do. TAF. Gentlemen, I am sorry you should be thus disturb'd Within my house; but now all fear is pass'd, You are most welcome: supper ended, I'll give a gracious answer to your suit; Meanwhile, let nought dismay or keep you mute. [_Exit._ _Enter_ THROAT, FRANCES, _and_ DASH. THROAT. Pay the coachman, Dash, pay him well, And thank him for his speed. Now _Vivat Rex_, The knot is knit, which not the law itself, With all his Hydra-heads and strongest nerves. Is able to disjoin: now let him hang, Fret out his guts, and swear the stars from heaven-- He never shall enjoy you; you shall be rich. Your lady-mother this day came to town In your pursuit: we will but shift some rags, And straight go take her blessing. FRAN. That must not be; Furnish me with jewels, and then myself, Attended by your man and honest Beard, Will thither first, and with my lady-mother Crave a peace for you. THROAT. I like that well; Her anger somewhat calm'd, I brisk and fine, Some half hour after will present myself As son-in-law unto her, which she must needs Accept with gracious looks. FRAN. Ay, when she knows Before by me, from what an eminent plague Your wisdom has preserv'd me. THROAT. Ay, that, that-- That will strike it dead. But here comes Beard. _Enter_ BEARD. BEARD. What, are you sure I tied fast by heart and hand? THROAT. I now do call her wife, she now is mine, Seal'd and deliver'd by an honest priest At Saint Giles's in the Fields.