might not feel this backward?

_Gent._ I would take Physick.

_Lieu._ But I would know my disease first.

_Leon._ Why? it may be the Colique: canst thou blow

_Lieu._ There's never a bag-pipe in the Kingdom better.

_Gent._ Is't not a pleuresie?

_Lieu._ 'Tis any thing
That has the Devil, and death in't: will ye march Gentlemen?
The Prince has taken leave.

_Leo._ How know ye that?

_Lieu._ I saw him leave the Court, dispatch his followers,
And met him after in a by street: I think
He has some wench, or such a toy, to lick over
Before he go: would I had such another
To draw this foolish pain down.

_Leo._ Let's away Gentlemen,
For sure the Prince will stay on us.

_Gent._ We'l attend Sir. [Exeunt.

_SCENA II._

_Enter_ Demetrius, _and_ Celia.

_Cel_. Must ye needs go?

_Dem_. Or stay with all dishonour.

_Cel_. Are there not men enough to fight?

_Dem_. Fie _Celia_.
This ill becomes the noble love you bear me;
Would you have your love a coward?

_Cel_. No; believe Sir,
I would have him fight, but not so far off from me.

_Dem_. Wouldst have it thus? or thus?

_Cel_. If that be fighting--

_Dem_. Ye wanton fool: when I come home again
I'le fight with thee, at thine own weapon _Celia_,
And conquer thee too.

_Cel_. That you have done already,
You need no other Arms to me, but these Sir;
But will you fight your self Sir?

_Dem_. Thus deep in bloud wench,
And through the thickest ranks of Pikes.

_Cel_. Spur bravely
Your firie Courser, beat the troops before ye,
And cramb the mouth of death with executions.

_Dem_. I would do more than these: But prethee tell me,
Tell me my fair, where got'st thou this male Spirit?
I wonder at thy mind.

_Cel_. Were I a man then,
You would wonder more.

_Dem_. Sure thou wouldst prove a Souldier,
And some great Leader.

_Cel_. Sure I should do somewhat;
And the first thing I did, I should grow envious,
Extreamly envious of your youth, and honour.

_Dem_. And fight against me?

_Cel_. Ten to one, I should do it.

_Dem_. Thou wouldst not hurt me?

_Cel_. In this mind I am in
I think I should be hardly brought to strike ye,
Unless 'twere thus; but in my mans mind--

_Dem_. What?

_Cel_. I should be friends with you too,
Now I think better.

_Dem_. Ye are a tall Souldier:
Here, take these, and these;
This gold to furnish ye, and keep this bracelet;
Why do you weep now?
You a masculine Spirit?

_Cel_. No, I confess, I am