Will. Egad, and so they are, Child: Salute ’em—They are my Friends—True Blades, Hal. highly guilty of the royal Crime, poor and brave, loyal Fugitives.
Beau. I love and honour ’em, Sir, as such [Bowing to Blunt.
Blunt. Sir, there’s neither Love nor Honour lost.
Feth. Sir, I scorn to be behind-hand in Civilities.
Beau. At first sight I find I am much yours, Sir. [To Feth.
Feth. Sir, I love and honour any Man that’s a Friend to Captain Willmore—and therefore I am yours—
Enter Shift.
—Well, honest Lieutenant, how does thy Body?—When shall Ned, and thou and I, crack a Bisket o’er a Glass of Wine, have a Slice of Treason and settle the Nation, hah?
Shift. You know, Squire, I am devotedly yours. [They talk aside.
Beau. Prithee who are these?