Devereux. Death and hell!
Thou know'st that I'm no milk-sop, General!
But 'tis not eight days since the Duke did send me 100
Twenty gold pieces for this good warm coat
Which I have on! and then for him to see me
Standing before him with the pike, his murderer,
That eye of his looking upon this coat—
Why—why—the devil fetch me! I'm no milk-sop! 105

Butler. The Duke presented thee this good warm coat,
And thou, a needy wight, hast pangs of conscience
To run him through the body in return.
A coat that is far better and far warmer
Did the Emperor give to him, the Prince's mantle. 110
How doth he thank the Emperor? With revolt,
And treason.

Devereux. That is true. The devil take
Such thankers! I'll dispatch him.

Butler. And would'st quiet
Thy conscience, thou hast nought to do but simply
Pull off the coat; so canst thou do the deed 115
[[784]] With light heart and good spirits.

Devereux. You are right.
That did not strike me. I'll pull off the coat—
So there's an end of it.

Macdonald. Yes, but there's another
Point to be thought of.

Butler. And what's that, Macdonald?

Macdonald. What avails sword or dagger against him? [120]
He is not to be wounded—he is—

Butler. What?

Macdonald. Safe against shot, and stab and flash! Hard frozen,
Secured, and warranted by the black art!
His body is impenetrable, I tell you.