_Nen._ Why, is't no more but up, boys? _Jud._ Yes, ride too Captain Will you but see my seat? _1 Daugh._ Ye shall be set, Sir, Upon a jade shall shake ye. _Jud._ Sheets, good Madam, Will do it ten times better. _1 Daugh._ Whips, good Soldier. Which ye shall taste before ye hang, to mortifie ye; 'Tis pity ye should die thus desperate. _2 Daugh._ These are the merry _Romans_ the brave madcaps. 'Tis ten to one we'll cool your resolutions. Bring out the whips. _Jud._ Would your good Ladyships Would exercise 'em too. _4 Sold._ Surely Ladies, We'll shew you a strange patience. _Nen._ Hang 'em Rascals, They'll talk thus on the wheel. [_Enter_ Caratach. _Car._ Now, what's the matter? What are these fellows? what's the crime committed, That they wear necklaces? _Nen._ They are _Roman_ Rogues, Taken a Forraging. _Car._ Is that all, _Nennius_? _Jud._ Would I were fairly hang'd; this is the devil, The kill-cow, _Caratach_, _Car._ And you would hang 'em. _Nen._ Are they not enemies? _1 Sol._ My breech makes buttons. _1 Daugh._ Are they not our tormentors? _Car._ Tormentors? Flea-traps. Pluck off your halters, fellows. _Nen._ Take heed, _Caratach_, Taint not your wisdom. _Car._ Wisdom, _Nennius_? Why, who shall fight against us, make our honors, And give a glorious day into our hands, If we dispatch our foes thus? what's their offence? Stealing a loaf or two to keep out hunger, A piece of greazie bacon, or a pudding? Do these deserve the gallows, they are hungry, Poor hungry knaves, no meat at home left, starv'd: Art thou not hungry? _Jud._ Monstrous hungry. _Car._ He looks like hungers self: get 'em some victuals, And Wine to cheer their hearts, quick: Hang up poor pilchers? _2 Sold._ This is the bravest Captain-- _Nen. Caratach_, I'll leave you to your Will. _Car._ I'll answer all, Sir. _2 Daugh._ Let's up and view his entertainment of ['em]. I am glad they are shifted any way, their tongues else Would still have murdred us. _1 Daugh._ Let's up and see it. [_Exeunt._ _Enter_ Hengo. _Car._ Sit down poor knaves: why where's this Wine and Victuals? Who waits there? _Swet. within._ Sir, 'tis coming. _Hen._ Who are these Uncle? _Car._ They are _R[o]mans_, boy. _Hen._ Are these they That vex mine Aunt so? can these fight? they look Like empty scabbards, all, no mettle in 'em, Like men of clouts, set to keep crows from orchards; Why, I dare fight with these. _Car._ That's my good chicken. And how do ye? How do you feel your stomachs? _Jud._ Wondrous apt, Sir, As shall appear when time calls.