Col. G. I will, sir.
Ger. And ride by my side?
Col. G. Of course.
Ger. If you ride by me, you will have to ride far.
Col. G. I know, sir. But if you would be fit for fighting, you must come and have something to eat and drink.
Ger. All right. A soldier must obey: I shall begin by obeying you. Only mind you keep up with me. Exit, leaning on COL. G.
Enter THOMAS.
Tho. Th' dule a mon be yere! Aw're main troubled to get shut ov they reyvers! Aw'm olez i' trouble! Mine's a gradely yed! it be!—Hoy!—Nobory yere! 'T seems to me, honest men be scarce i' Lonnon. Aw'm beawn to believe nobory but mo own heighes, and mo own oud lass. Exit.
Re-enter GERVAISE, followed by COL. G.
Ger. No, William; I won't lie down. I feel much better. Let's have a bout with the foils.