PUFF. ’Fore Gad, now, that is one of the most ungrateful observations I ever heard!—for the less inducement he has to tell all this, the more, I think, you ought to be obliged to him; for I am sure you’d know nothing of the matter without it. DANGLE. That’s very true, upon my word. PUFF. But you will find he was not going on. _Sir Christ_. Enough, enough—’tis plain—and I no more Am in amazement lost!— PUFF. Here, now you see, Sir Christopher did not in fact ask any one question for his own information. SNEER. No, indeed: his has been a most disinterested curiosity! DANGLE. Really, I find that we are very much obliged to them both. PUFF. To be sure you are. Now then for the commander-in-chief, the Earl of Leicester, who, you know, was no favourite but of the queen’s.—We left off—_in amazement lost!_ _Sir Christ_. Am in amazement lost. But, see where noble Leicester comes supreme in honours and command. SIR WALTER RALEIGH. And yet, methinks, At such a time, so perilous, so fear’d, That staff might well become an abler grasp. SIR CHRISTOPHER HATTON. And so, by Heaven! think I; but soft, he’s here! PUFF. Ay, they envy him! SNEER. But who are these with him? PUFF. Oh! very valiant knights: one is the governor of the fort, the other the master of the horse. And now, I think, you shall hear some better language: I was obliged to be plain and intelligible in the first scene, because there was so much matter of fact in it; but now, i’faith, you have trope, figure, and metaphor, as plenty as noun-substantives. _Enter_ EARL OF LEICESTER, GOVERNOR, MASTER OF THE HORSE, KNIGHTS, &c. EARL OF LEICESTER. How’s this, my friends! is’t thus your new-fledged zeal, And plumed valour moulds in roosted sloth? Why dimly glimmers that heroic flame, Whose reddening blaze, by patriot spirit fed, Should be the beacon of a kindling realm? Can the quick current of a patriot heart Thus stagnate in a cold and weedy converse, Or freeze in tideless inactivity? No! rather let the fountain of your valour Spring through each stream of enterprise, Each petty channel of conducive daring, Till the full torrent of your foaming wrath O’erwhelm the flats of sunk hostility! PUFF. There it is—followed up! _Sir Walt_. No more!—the freshening breath of thy rebuke Hath fill’d the swelling canvas of our souls! And thus, though fate should cut the cable of [_All take hands._] Our topmost hopes, in friendship’s closing line We’ll grapple with despair, and if we fall, We’ll fall in glory’s wake! EARL OF LEICESTER. There spoke old England’s genius! Then, are we all resolved? ALL. We are—all resolved. EARL OF LEICESTER. To conquer—or be free? ALL. To conquer, or be free. EARL OF LEICESTER. All? ALL. All. DANGLE. _Nem. con_. egad! PUFF. O yes!—where they do agree on the stage, their unanimity is wonderful! EARL OF LEICESTER. Then let’s embrace—and now—[_Kneels._ SNEER. What the plague, is he going to pray?