Bac.
I pray thee leave these cheating tricks, I swear thou shalt fight with me, or thou shall be beaten extreamly, and kick'd.
Bes.
Since you provoke me thus far, my Lord, I will fight with you, and by my Sword it shall cost me twenty pound, but I will have my Leg well a week sooner purposely.
Bac.
Your Leg? Why, what ailes your Leg? i'le do a cure on you, stand up.
Bes.
My Lord, this is not Noble in you.
Bac.
What dost thou with such a phrase in thy mouth? I will kick thee out of all good words before I leave thee.