_Mist. Mer._ No, Michael, let thy father go snick-up, he shall never come between a pair of sheets with me again while he lives: let him stay at home and sing for his supper, boy. Come, child, sit down, and I'll show my boy fine knacks indeed; look here, Michael, here's a ring, and here's a brooch, and here's a bracelet, and here's two rings more, and here's money, and gold by th' eye, my boy. _Mich._ Shall I have all this, mother? _Mist. Mer._ Ay, Michael, thou shalt have all, Michael. _Cit._ How lik'st thou this, wench? _Wife._ I cannot tell, I would have Ralph, George; I'll see no more else indeed la: and I pray you let the youths understand so much by word of mouth, for I will tell you truly, I'm afraid o' my boy. Come, come, George, let's be merry and wise, the child's a fatherless child, and say they should put him into a strait pair of gaskins, 'twere worse than knot-grass, he would never grow after it. _Enter_ RALPH, SQUIRE, _and_ DWARF. _Cit._ Here's Ralph, here's Ralph. _Wife._ How do you, Ralph? You are welcome, Ralph, as I may say, it's a good boy, hold up thy head, and be not afraid, we are thy friends, Ralph. The gentlemen will praise thee, Ralph, if thou play'st thy part with audacity; begin, Ralph a God's name. _Ralph._ My trusty squire, unlace my helm, give me my hat; where are we, or what desert might this be? _Dwarf._ Mirror of knighthood, this is, as I take it, the perilous Waltham down, in whose bottom stands the enchanted valley. _Mist. Mer._ Oh, Michael, we are betrayed, we are betrayed, here be giants; fly, boy; fly, boy; fly! [_Exeunt_ MOTHER _and_ MICHAEL. _Ralph._ Lace on my helm again; what noise is this? A gentle lady flying the embrace Of some uncourteous knight: I will relieve her. Go, squire, and say, the knight that wears this pestle In honour of all ladies, swears revenge Upon that recreant coward that pursues her; Go, comfort her, and that same gentle squire That bears her company. _Squire._ I go, brave knight. _Ralph._ My trusty dwarf and friend, reach me my shield, And hold it while I swear, first by my knighthood, Then by the soul of Amadis de Gaul, My famous ancestor, then by my sword, The beauteous Brionella girt about me, By this bright burning pestle, of mine honour The living trophy, and by all respect Due to distressed damsels, here I vow Never to end the quest of this fair lady, And that forsaken squire, till by my valour I gain their liberty. _Dwarf._ Heaven bless the knight That thus relieves poor errant gentlewomen. [_Exit._