PHIL. For every drop of blood which thou shalt lose, Coward, I'll give thy wife a wedge of gold. 2D SOL. Hang him, meacock! my lord, arm yourself; I'll fight for you, till I have not an eye to see the fire in my touch-hole. PHIL. Be thou a king's companion; thou and I Will dare the cardinal and the Moor to fight In single combat; shall we, ha? 2D SOL. Agreed. PHIL. We'll beat'm to hell-gate; shall we, ha? 2D SOL. Hell-gate's somewhat too hot, somewhat too hot; the porter's a knave: I'd be loth to be damned for my conscience; I'll knock any body's costard, so I knock not there, my lord; hell-gates! PHIL. A pox upon such slaves! 1ST SOL. Hang him, a peasant! my lord, you see I am but a scrag; my lord, my legs are not of the biggest, nor the least, nor the best that e'er were stood upon--nor the worst; but they are of God's making; and for your sake, if ever we put our enemies to flight again, by Gad's-lid, if I run not after them like a tiger, hough[68] me. PHIL. But wilt thou stand to't ere they fly, ha, wilt thou? 1ST SOL. Will I, quoth-a! by this hand and the honour of a soldier. PHIL. And by a soldier's honour I will load thee With Spanish pistolets: to have this head, Thy face, and all thy body stuck with scars, Why 'tis a sight more glorious than to see A lady hung with diamonds. If thou lose A hand, I'll send this after; if an arm, I'll lend thee one of mine; come then, let's fight. A mangled, lame, true soldier is a gem Worth Cæsar's empire, though fools spurn at them. 1ST SOL. Yet, my lord, I have seen lame soldiers not worth the crutches they leant upon; hands and arms, quoth-he! Zounds! not I. I'll double my files, or stand sentry, or so; but I'll be hanged and quartered, before I'll have my members cut off. 2D SOL. And I too: hold thee there. PHIL. Hold you both there; away, you rogues, you dirt! [_Beats them both in._ Thus do I tread upon you; out, begone! One valiant is an host: fight then alone. _Enter_ CARDINAL, ALVERO, CHRISTOFERO, _and Soldiers_. CAR. Prince Philip. PHIL. For the crown of Spain, come all. CAR. We come in love and peace. PHIL. But come in war; Bring naked swords, not laurel boughs, in peace! Plague on your rank peace! will you fight and cry, Down with the Moor? and then I'm yours; I'll die. I have a heart, two arms, a soul, a head; I'll lay that down; I'll venture all--'sfoot, all! Come, tread upon me, so that Moor may fall. CAR. By heaven, that Moor shall fall. PHIL. Thy hand and thine. [_Flings down his weapons._ Give me but half your hearts, you have all mine; By heaven, shall he fall? CAR. Yes, upon thee, Like to the ruins of a tower, to grind Thy body into dust. Traitor and bastard, I do arrest thee of high treason. PHIL. Ha! Traitor and bastard! and by thee? my weapons! CAR. Lay hands upon him! PHIL. Ah! you're best do so. CAR. Alvero, there's the warrant; to your hands The prisoner is committed. Lords, let's part: Look to him, on your life.