Gal. Yes, would you should well know,
I understand it for a box o'th' ear Sir.
1 Gent. And o'my troth, that's all I gave it for.
Gal. 'Twere best it be so.
1 Gent. This is a brave Coward,
A jolly threat'ning Coward; he shall be Captain:
Sir, let me meet you an hour hence i'th' Lobby.
Gal. Meet you? the world might laugh at [me] then i'faith.
1 Ge. Lay by your scorn and pride, they're scurvy qualities,
And meet me, or I'll box you while I have you,
And carry you gambril'd thither like a Mutton.
Gal. Nay, and you be in earnest, here's my hand.
I will not fail you.
1 Gent. 'Tis for your own good.
Gal. Away.
1 Gent. Too much for your own good, Sir, a pox on you.