Tho. Mind that, Costar. A sweet gentleman!
Plume. Tis true, gentlemen, I might take an advantage of you; the king's money was in your pockets—my serjeant was ready to take his oath you were listed; but I scorn to do a base thing; you are both of you at your liberty.
Cost. Thank you, noble captain——Icod! I can't find in my heart to leave him, he talks so finely.
Tho. Ay, Costar, would he always hold in this mind.
Plume. Come, my lads, one thing more I'll tell you: you're both young tight fellows, and the army is the place to make you men for ever: every man has his lot, and you have yours: what think you of a purse of French gold out of a monsieur's pocket, after you have dashed out his brains with the but end of your firelock, eh?
Cost. Wauns! I'll have it. Captain—give me a shilling; I'll follow you to the end of the world.
Tho. Nay, dear Costar! do'na: be advis'd.
Plume. Here, my hero, here are two guineas for thee, as earnest of what I'll do farther for thee.
Tho. Do'na take it; do'na, dear Costar.
[Cries, and pulls back his Arm.