Bel. No I'le make Hob-nails first, and mend old Kettles:
Can ye lend me an Armour of high proof, to appear in,
And two or three Field-pieces to defend me?
The Kings Guard are meer Pigmeys.
Nant. They will not eat ye.
Bel. Yes, and you too, and twenty fatter Monsieurs,
If their high stomachs hold: they came with Chopping-knives,
To cut me into Rands, and Sirloins, and so powder me.
Come, shall we go?
Nant. You cannot be so discourteous
(If ye intend to go) as not to visit 'em,
And take your leaves.
Mir. That we dare do, and civilly,
And thank 'em too.
Pin. Yes, Sir, we know that honesty.
Bel. I'le come i'th' Rear, forty foot off, I'le assure ye,
With a good Gun in my hand; I'le no more Amazons,
I mean, no more of their frights; I'le make my three legs
Kiss my hand twice; and if I smell no danger;
If the enterview be clear, may be I'le speak to her;
I'le wear a privy coat too; and behind me,
To make those parts secure, a Bandog.
la-Cast. You are a merry Gentleman.
Bel. A wary Gentleman; I do assure ye,
I have been warn'd, and must be arm'd.
la-Cast. Well, Son,
These are your hasty thoughts, when I see you are bent to it,
Then I'le believe, and joyn with ye; So we'll leave ye:
There's a Trick will make ye stay.