Gom. Before thou get'st off from me,
Hadst thou the glory of thy first fi[gh]ts on thee
Which thou hast basely lost, thy noblest fortunes,
And in their greatest lustres, I would make thee,
Before we part, confess, nay, kneel, and do it,
Nay, crying kneel, coldly, for mercy, crying:
Thou art the recreant'st Rogue, time ever nourished, stav'd,
Thou art a dog, I will make thee swear, a dog
A mangy Cur-dog; do you creep behind the Altar?
Look how it sweats, to shelter such a rascall;
First, with thy venemous tooth infect her chast life,
And then not dare to do; next, rob her rest,
Steal her dead body out oth'grave.
Mount. I have not.
Gom. Prethee come out, this is no place to quarrel in,
Valiant Mountferrat come.
Mount. I will not stir.
Gom. Thou hast thy sword about thee,
That good sword, that never faill'd thee: prethee come,
We'll have but five stroaks for it; on, on Boy,
Here's one would fain be acquainted with thee,
Would wondrous fain cleave that Calves-head of yours Sir,
Come, prethee let's dispatch, the Moon shines finely:
Prethee be kill'd by me, thou wilt be hang'd else,
But it may be, thou long'st to be hang'd.
Roc. Out with him, Sir,
You shall have my sword too: when he's dispatch'd once,
We have the world before us.
Gom. Wilt thou walk fellow,
I never knew a Rogue, hang arse-ward so,
And such a desperate knave too.
Ab. Pray go with him,
Something I'll promise too.
Mount. You would be kill'd then?
No remedy; I see.
Gom. If thou dar'st do it?