Ralph. I warrant you Sir. [Exit Ralph.
Cit. Let him look narrowly to his service, I shall take him else; I was there my self a Pike-man once, in the hottest of the day, wench, had my feather shot sh[eere] away, the fringe of my pike burnt off with powder, my pate broken with a scouring-stick, and yet I thank God I am here. [Drum within.
Wife. Hark George, the Drums.
Cit. Ran, tan; tan, tan, ran, tan: Oh wench an thou hadst but seen little Ned of Aldgate, drum Ned, how he made it roar again, and laid on like a tyrant: and then struck softly till the Ward came up, and then thundred again, and together we go: sa, sa, sa, bounce quoth the Guns: courage my hearts, quoth the Captains: Saint George, quoth the pike-men; and withal here they lay, and there they lay; And yet for all this I am here wench.
Wife. Be thankful for it George, for indeed 'tis wonderful.
Enter Ralph and his company with Drums and Colours.
Ralph. March fair my hearts; Lieutenant beat the rear up: Ancient let your Colours flie; but have a great care of the Butchers hooks at White-Chappel, they have been the death of many a fair Ancient. Open your files, that I may take a view both of your persons and munition: Serjeant call a Muster.
Serg. A stand, William Hamerton Pewterer.
Ham. Here Captain.