Dem. I wonder how they dare stir, knowing the enemy
Master of all the Countrey.
Petill. Resolute hungers
Know neither fears nor faiths, they tread on ladders,
Ropes, Gallows, and overdoe all dangers.
Dem. They may be hang'd though.
Petill. There's their joyful supper,
And no doubt they are at it.
Dem. But for heavens sake,
How does young Junius?
Petill. Drawing on, poor Gentleman.
Dem. What, to his end?
Petill. To th' end of all flesh: woman.
Dem. This Love has made him a stout Soldier.
Petill. O, a great one,
Fit to command young Goslings: but what news?