Sale. Roseclap, you'll never leave this: I did tell you,
Last time the captain beat you, what a lion
He is, being ask'd for reckonings.
Mil. So you did,
Indeed, good Master Salewit; yet you must
Ever be foolish, husband.
Sale. What if we
Do owe you money, sir; is't fit for you
To ask it?
Rose. Well, Sir, There Is Law. I Say
No more, but there is law.
Quart. What law, you cur?
The law of nature, custom, arms, and nations,
Frees men of war from payments.
Rose. Yes, your arms, captain; none else.
Quart. No soldiers ought to pay.
Sale. Nor poets:
All void of money are privileged.
Mil. What would you have?
Captains and poets, Master Salewit says,
Must never pay.
Sale. No, nor be ask'd for money.