Gis. More of the crew?
Grand. What are you? Rollians?
Tre. No; this for Rollo, and all such as serve him;
We stand for Otto.
Grand. You seem men of fashion,
And therefore I'le deal fairly, you shall have
The honour this day to be Chronicled
The first men kill'd by Grandpree; you see this sword,
A pretty foolish toy, my valour's Servant,
And I may boldly say a Gentleman,
It having made when it was Charlemaigns,
Three thousand Knights; this, Sir, shall cut your throat,
And do you all fair service else.
Tre. I kiss your hands for the good offer; here's another
too, the servant of your servant shall be proud to be scour'd
in your sweet guts; till when pray you command me.
Grand. Your Idolater, Sir. [Exeunt. Manent Gis. & Bal.
Gis. That e're such should hold the names of men,
Or Justice be held cruelty, when it labours
To pluck such weeds up!
Bald. Yet they are protected, and by the great ones.
Gis. Not the good ones, Baldwin.