_Enter _CELADON, with his Friends, unbuttoned and reeling.
Cel. Courage, my noble cousin! I have brought A band of blades, the bravest youths of Syracuse; Some drunk, some sober, all resolved to run Your fortune to the utmost.—Fall on, mad boys!
Lys. Hold a little!—I'm not secure of victory against these desperate ruffians.
Cel. No, but I'll secure you! They shall cut your throat for such another word of them. Ruffians, quoth a'! call gamesters, whoremasters, and drunkards, ruffians!
Lys. Pray, gentlemen, fall back a little.
Cel. O ho, are they gentlemen now with you!—Speak first to your gentlemen soldiers to retire; And then I'll speak to my gentlemen ruffians. [CEL. signs to his party. There's your disciplined men now.—[They sign, and the Soldiers retire on both sides. Come, gentlemen, let's lose no time: While they are talking, let's have one merry main before we die, for mortality sake.
1 Fr. Agreed! here's my cloak for a table.
2 Fr. And my hat for a box.
[They lie down and throw.
Lys. Suppose I killed him!
'Twould but exasperate the queen the more:
He loves not her, nor knows he she loves him:—
sudden thought is come into my head,—
So to contrive it, that this Philocles,
And these his friends, shall bring to pass that for me,
Which I could never compass.—True, I strain
A point of honour; but then her usage to me—
It shall be so.—
Pray, Philocles, command your soldiers off;
As I will mine: I've somewhat to propose,
Which you perhaps may like.