Bal. And you too, if you bite not a bit from your tongue.
Ste. By the mass, I'll drink the king's ale, and I'll take the king's money, but I'll fight for none but Hubert de Burgh!
God. And he for the king—so you.
Ste. I care not how you make it. De Burgh is my master. I'll fight for him and with him and after him, but I'll wear a red sword for no bishop or baron or little king Harry in Christendom!
Bal. That may be so with more of us than you, but stop your mouth with good ale and let words alone.
Ste. And I'll go with him to the French court and pull Louis off the king's stool!
[Sings]
Hear, boys, hear! O, hear our captain call!
We'll away, boys, away!
For the love o' the sword and the love o' the money,