Can you endure a Drum? Leon: It makes my head ake. Juan de Castro: Are you not valiant when you are drunk? Leon: I think not, but I am loving Sir. Juan de Castro: What a lump is this man, Was your Father wise? Leon: Too wise for me I'm sure, For he gave all he had to my younger Brother. Juan de Castro: That was no foolish part I'le bear you witness. Canst thou lye with a woman? Leon: I think I could make shift Sir, But I am bashfull. Juan de Castro: In the night? Leon: I know not, Darkness indeed may do some good upon me. Juan de Castro: Why art thou sent to me to be my officer, I, and commended too, when thou darst not fight? Leon: There be more officers of my opinion, Or I am cozen'd Sir, men that talk more too. Juan de Castro: How wilt thou scape a bullet? Leon: Why by chance, 178] They aim at honourable men, alas I am none Sir. Juan de Castro: This fellow has some doubts in's talk that strike me, [Enter _Alonzo_.] He cannot be all fool: welcom _Alonzo_. Alonzo: What have you got there, temperance into your company? The spirit of peace? we shall have wars [Enter _Cacafogo_.] By th'ounce then. O here's another pumpion, Let him loose for luck sake, the cram'd son Of a stay'd Usurer, _Cacafogo_, both their brains butter'd, Cannot make two spoonfulls. Cacafogo: My Father's dead: I am a man of war too, Monyes, demesns; I have ships at sea too, Captains. Juan de Castro: Take heed o'th' Hollanders, your ships may leak else. Cacafogo: I scorn the Hollanders, they are my drunkards. Alonzo: Put up your gold Sir, I'le borrow it else. Cacafogo: I am satisfied, you shall not, Come out, I know thee, meet mine anger instantly. Leon: I never wrong'd ye. Cacafogo: Thou hast wrong'd mine honor, Thou look'dst upon my Mistris thrice lasciviously, I'le make it good. Juan de Castro: Do not hea[t] your self, you will surfeit. Cacafogo: Thou wan'st my mony too, with a pair of base bones, In whom there was no truth, for which I beat thee, I beat thee much, now I will hurt thee dangerously. This shall provoke thee. [He strikes. Alonzo: You struck too low by a foot Sir. Juan de Castro: You must get a ladder when you would beat This fellow. Leon: I cannot chuse but kick again, pray pardon me. Cacafogo: Had'st thou not ask'd my pardon, I had kill'd thee, I leave thee as a thing despis'd, _assoles manus a vostra siniare_ _a Maistre_. [Exit _Cacafogo_. Alonzo: