Kite. May it please the worshipful bench, I desire to be heard in this case, as being the counsel for the king.
Bal. Come, serjeant, you shall be heard, since nobody else will speak; we won't come here for nothing.
Kite. This man is but one man, the country may spare him, and the army wants him; besides, he's cut out by nature for a grenadier; he's five feet ten inches high; he shall box, wrestle, or dance the Cheshire round with any man in the country; he gets drunk every Sabbath-day, and he beats his wife.
Wife. You lie, sirrah, you lie; an please your worship, he's the best natured pains-taking'st man in the parish, witness my five poor children.
Scrup. A wife and five children? you constable, you rogue, how durst you impress a man that has a wife and five children?
Scale. Discharge him, discharge him.
Bal. Hold, gentlemen. Harkye, friend, how do you maintain your wife and five children?
Plume. They live upon wild-fowl and venison, sir; the husband keeps a gun, and kills all the hares and partridges within five miles round.
Bal. A gun! nay if he be so good at gunning, he shall have enough on't. He may be of use against the French, for he shoots flying to be sure.
Scrup. But his wife and children, Mr. Balance?