MURLEY. The more’s my honor. I shall be a knight to morrow! Let me spose my men: Tom upon cut, Dick upon hob, Hodge upon Ball, Raph upon Sorell, and Robin upon the forehorse. [Enter Acton, Bourne, and Beverly.] TOM. Stand, who comes there? ACTON. All friends, good fellow. MURLEY. Friends and fellows, indeed, sir Roger. ACTON. Why, thus you shew your self a Gentleman, To keep your day, and come so well prepared. Your cart stands yonder, guarded by your men, Who tell me it is loaden with coin. What sum is there? MURLEY. Ten thousand pound, sir Roger: and modestly, decently, soberly, and handsomely, see what I have here against I be knighted. ACTON. Gilt spurs? tis well. MURLEY. But where’s your army, sir? ACTON. Dispersed in sundry villages about: Some here with us in Highgate, some at Finchley, Totnam, Enfield, Edmunton, Newington, Islington, Hogsdon, Pancredge, Kensington; Some nearer Thames, Ratcliffe, Blackwall and Bow; But our chief strength must be the Londoners, Which, ere the Sun to morrow shine, Will be near fifty thousand in the field. MURLEY. Mary, God dild ye, dainty my dear! but upon occasion, sir Roger Acton, doth not the King know of it, and gather his power against us? ACTON. No, he’s secure at Eltham. MURLEY. What do the Clergy? ACTON. Fear extremely, yet prepare no force. MURLEY. In and out, to and fro, Bully my boikin, we shall carry the world afore us! I vow by my worship, when I am knighted, we’ll take the King napping, if he stand on their part. ACTON. This night we few in Highgate will repose. With the first cock we’ll rise and arm our selves, To be in Ficket field by break of day, And there expect our General. MURLEY. Sir John Old-castle? what if he come not? BOURNE. Yet our action stands. Sir Roger Acton may supply his place. MURLEY. True, Master Bourne, but who shall make me knight? BEVERLY. He that hath power to be our General. ACTON. Talk not of trifles; come, let’s away. Our friends of London long till it be day. [Exeunt.] ACT III. SCENE III. A high road in Kent. [Enter sir John of Wrotham and Doll.] DOLL. By my troth, thou art as jealous a man as lives. PRIEST. Canst thou blame me, Doll? thou art my lands, my goods, my jewels, my wealth, my purse. None walks within xl. miles of London, but a plies thee as truly as the parish does the poor man’s box. DOLL. I am as true to thee as the stone is in the wall; and thou knowest well enough, sir John, I was in as good doing, when I came to thee, as any wench need to be; and therefore thou hast tried me, that thou hast: by God’s body, I will not be kept as I have been, that I will not. PRIEST. Doll, if this blade hold, there’s not a peddlar walks with a pack, but thou shalt as boldly choose of his wares, as with thy ready money in a Merchant’s shop. We’ll have as good silver as the King coins any. DOLL. What, is all the gold spent you took the last day from the Courtier?