Prot. Hey ho, here's a pang of preferment.
Devi. 'Heart, who goes there?
Prot. He that has no heart to your acquaintance, what shall I do with my Jewels and my Letter, my codpiece that's too loose, good, my boots, who is't that spoke to me? here's a friend.
Devit. We shall find that presently, stand, as you love your safety, stand.
Prot. That unlucky word of standing, has brought me to all this, hold, or I shall never stand you.
Devit. I should know that voice, deliver.
Enter Soldiers.
Prot. All that I have is at your service Gentlemen, and much good may it do you.
Devit. Zones down with him, do you prate?