thank you, Sir, few words.

_La-writ._ I'le kill you for your Uncles sake.

_Sam._ I love you,
I'le cut your throat for your own sake.

_La-writ._ I esteem of you.

_Cler._ Let's render 'em honest, and fair, Gentlemen,
Search my friend, I'le search yours.

_Gent._ That's quickly done.

_Cler._ You come with no Spells, nor Witchcrafts?

_Sam._ I come fairly to kill him honestly.

_La-writ._ Hang Spells, and Witchcrafts,
I come to kill my Lords Nephew like a Gentleman,
And so I kiss his hand.

_Gent._ This Doublet is too stiff.

_La-writ._ Off with't, I hate it,
And all such fortifications, feel my skin,
If that be stiff, flea that off too.

_Gent._ 'Tis no soft one.

_La-writ._ Off with't, I say:
I'le fight with him like a flea'd Cat.

_Gent._ You are well, you are well.

_Cler._ You must uncase too.

_Sam._ Yes, Sir.
But tell me this, why should I mix mine honour
With a fellow, that has ne're a lace in's shirt?

_Gent._ That's a main point, my friend has two.

_Cler._ That's true, Sir.

_La-w._ Base and degenerate Cousin, dost not thou know
An old, and tatter'd colours, to the enemy,
Is of more honour, and shews more ominous?
This shirt, five times, victorious I have fought under,
And cut through squadrons of your curious cut-works,
As I will do through thine, shake, and be satisfied.

_Cler._ This is unanswerable.

_Sam._ But may I fight with a foul shirt?

_Gent._ Most certain, so it be a fighting shirt,
Let it be ne're so foul, or lowsie, _Caesar_ wore such a one.

_Sam._ Saint _Denis_ then: I accept your shirt.

_Cler._ Not so forward, first you must talk,
'Tis a main point, of the French method,
Talk civilly, and make your cause Authentick.

_Gent._ No weapon must be near you, nor no anger.

_Cler._ When you have done, then stir your resolutions,
Take to your Weapons bravely.

_La-writ._ 'Tis too cold;
This for a Summer fight.

_Cler._ Not for a world you should transgress the rules.

_Sam._ 'Tis pievish weather,
I had rather fight without.

_Gent._ An 'twere in a River.

_Cler._ Where both stood up to th' chins.

_La-writ._ Then let's talk quickly,
Pl---- o' this circumstance.

_Cler._ Are the Horses come yet?

_Gent._ Yes certain: give your swords to us, now civilly.

_Cler._ We'll stand a while off; take the things, and leave 'em,
You know when, and let the children play:
This is a dainty time of year for puppies,
Would the old Lord were here.

_Gent._ He