Rafe. O faint not heart, Susan my Lady dear:
The Coblers Maid in Milkstreet, for whose sake,
I take these Arms, O let the thought of thee,
Carry thy Knight through all adventurous deeds,
And in the honor of thy beauteous self,
May I destroy this monster Barbaroso,
Knock Squire upon the Bason till it break [Enter Barba.
With the shrill strokes, or till the Giant spake.
Wife. O George, the Giant, the Giant, now Rafe for thy life.
Bar. What fond unknowing wight is this, that dares,
So rudely knock at Barbarossa's Cell,
Where no man comes, but leaves his fleece behind?
Rafe. I, traiterous Caitiffe, who am sent by fate
To punish all the sad enormities
Thou hast committed against Ladies gentle,
And Errant Knights, Traytor to God and men:
Prepare thy self, this is the dismal hour
Appointed for thee to give strict account
Of all thy beastly treacherous villanies.
Bar. Fool-hardy Knight, full soon thou shalt aby
This fond reproach, thy body will I bang, [He takes down his pole.
And loe upon that string thy teeth shall hang:
Prepare thy self, for dead soon shalt thou be.
Rafe. Saint George for me. [They fight.
Barba. Gargantua for me.
Wife. To him Rafe, to him, hold up the Giant, set out thy leg before Rafe.
Cit. Falsifie a blow Rafe, falsifie a blow, the Giant lies open on the left side.