_Pur._ Why, I am the king's purveyor, and I tell thee I will have them. _And._ I am Ateukin's servant, Signior Andrew, and I say, thou shalt not have them. _Pur._ Here's my ticket; deny it if thou darest. _And._ There is the stable; fetch them out if thou darest. _Pur._ Sirrah, sirrah, tame your tongue, lest I make you. _And._ Sirrah, sirrah, hold your hand, lest I bum[272] you. _Pur._ I tell thee, thy master's geldings are good, and therefore fit for the king. _And._ I tell thee, my master's horses have galled backs, and therefore cannot fit the king. Purveyor, purveyor, purvey thee of more wit: darest thou presume to wrong my Lord Ateukin, being the chiefest man in court? _Pur._ The more unhappy commonweal where flatterers are chief in court. _And._ What sayest thou? _Pur._ I say thou art too presumptuous, and the officers shall school thee. _And._ A fig for them and thee, purveyor! They seek a knot in a ring that would wrong my master or his servants in this court. _Enter_ JAQUES. _Pur._ The world is at a wise pass when nobility is afraid of a flatterer. _Jaq._ Sirrah, what be you that _parley contre Monsieur_ my Lord Ateukin? _en bonne foi_, prate you against Sir _Altesse_, me maka your _tête_ to leap from your shoulders, _per ma foi c'y ferai-je?_ _And._ O, signior captain, you show yourself a forward and friendly gentleman in my master's behalf: I will cause him to thank you. _Jaq. Poltron_, speak me one _parola_ against my _bon gentilhomme_, I shall _estamp_ your guts, and thump your backa, that you _no point_ manage this ten hours. _Pur._ Sirrah, come open me the stable, and let me have the horses;--and, fellow, for all your French brags, I will do my duty. _And._ I'll make garters of thy guts, thou villain, if thou enter this office. _Jaq. Mort Dieu_, take me that cappa _pour votre labeur_: be gone, villain, in the _mort_. [_Exit._ _Pur._ What, will you resist me, then? Well, the council, fellow, shall know of your insolency. _And._ Tell them what thou wilt, and eat that I can best spare from my back-parts, and get you gone with a vengeance. [_Exit_ Purveyor. _Enter_ ATEUKIN. _Ateu._ Andrew. _And._ Sir? _Ateu._ Where be my writings I put in my pocket last night? _And._ Which, sir? your annotations upon Machiavel? _Ateu._ No, sir; the letters-patents for East Spring. _And._ Why, sir, you talk wonders to me, if you ask that question. _Ateu._ Yea, sir, and will work wonders too with you, unless you find them out: villain, search me them out, and bring them me, or thou art but dead. _And._ A terrible word in the latter end of a sessions. Master, were you in your right wits yesternight? _Ateu._ Dost thou doubt it?