Egre. By no means.
Eust. Honour is nothing with you?
Cow. A meer bubble; for what's grown common, is no more regarded.
Eust. My sword forc'd from me too, and still detain'd, you think 'tis no blemish.
Egre. Get me a Batton, 'tis twenty times more Court-like, and less trouble.
Eust. And yet you wear a sword.
_Cow. Yes, and a good one, a Milan hilt, and a Damasco blade for ornament, not use, the Court allows it.
Eust. Will't not fight of it self?
Cow. I ne'er tri'd this, yet I have worn as fair as any man; I'm sure I've made my Cutler rich, and paid for several weapons, Turkish and Toledo's, two thousand Crowns, and yet could never light upon a fighting one.
Eust. I'le borrow this, I like it well.