Cit. I, I warrant thee, the Players would give all the shooes in their shop for him.
Ralph. My beloved Squire Tim, stand out, admit this were a Desart, and over it a Knight Errant pricking, and I should bid you enquire of his intents, what would you say?
Tim. Sir, my Master sent me to know whither you are riding?
Ralph. No, thus; fair Sir, the Right courteous, and valiant Knight of the Burning Pestle, commanded me to enquire upon what adventure you are bound, whether to relieve some distressed Damsel, or otherwise.
Cit. Whorson blockhead cannot remember.
Wife. I'faith, and Ralph told him on't before: all the Gentlemen heard him, did he not Gentlemen, did not Ralph tell him on't?
George. Right courteous and valiant Knight of the Burning Pestle, here is a distressed Damsel, to have a halfepenny worth of Pepper.
Wife. That's a good boy, see, the little boy can hit it, by my troth it's a fine child.
Ralph. Relieve her with all courteous language, now shut up shop, no more my Prentice, but my trusty Squire and Dwarfe, I must bespeak my Shield, and arming Pestle.
Cit. Go thy ways Ralph, as I am a true man, thou art the best on 'em all.