[Exeunt Smith, Prince, Percy, &c.
Manent Walter and Larry.
Walter. So, my compeer in honour, we must hold
The staff of sway between us.
Larry. Arrah, man,
If we hould it between us, any rogue
Shall run clean off before it knocks him down,
While at each end we tug for mastery.
Walter. Tush, man! we'll strike in unison.
Larry. Go to—
Walter. And first, let's to the forest—the young sparks
In silken doublets there are felling trees,
Poor, gentle masters, with their soft palms blister'd;
And, while they chop and chop, they swear and swear,
Drowning with oaths the echo of their axe.
Larry. Are they so hot in choler?
Walter. Aye.
Larry. We'll cool 'em;
And pour cold patience down their silken sleeves.