1 Bish. Put on his spurs, and girt him with the sword,
The scourge of Infidels, and tipes of speed.
Buildst thy faith on this?
Mir. On him that dy'd
On such a sacred figure, for our sins.
2 Bish. Here, then we fix it on thy left side, for
Thy increase of faith, Christian defence, and service
To th' poor, and thus near to thy heart we plant it
That thou maist love it even with all thy heart,
With thy right hand protect, preserve it whole,
For if thou fighting 'gainst heavens enemies
Shalt flie away, abandoning the cross
The Ensign of thy holy General,
With shame thou justly shalt be robb'd of it
Chas'd from our company, and cut away
As an infectious putrified limb.
Mir. I ask no favour.
1 Bish. Then receive the yoak
Of him that makes it sweet, and light, in which,
Thy soul find her eternal rest.
Val. Most welcome.
All. Welcome, our noble Brother.
Val. Break up the Court; Mountferrat, though your deeds
Conspiring 'gainst the lives of innocents
Hath forfeited your own, we will not stain
Our white cross with your blood: your doom is then
To marry this coagent of your mischiefs
Which done, we banish you the continent,
If either, after three daies here be found
The hand of Law laies hold upon your lives.
Nor. Away French stallion, now you have a Barbary mare
Of your own, go leap her, and engender young devilings.
Val. We will find something noble Norandine
To quit your merit: so to civil feasts,
According to our customs; and all pray
The dew of grace, bless our new Knight to day. [Exeunt.