NICHOLAS. What, Corporal Oath? I am sorry we have met with you, next our hearts; you are the man that we are forbidden to keep company withall. We must not swear I can tell you, and you have the name for swearing.
SIMON. Aye, Corporal Oath, I would you would do so much as forsake us, sir; we cannot abide you, we must not be seen in your company.
FRAILTY. There is none of us, I can tell you, but shall be soundly whipt for swearing.
CORPORAL. Why, how now, we three? Puritanical Scrape-shoes, Flesh a good Fridays! a hand.
ALL.
Oh!
CORPORAL. Why, Nicholas Saint-Tantlings, Simon Saint Mary Ovaries, ha’s the De’el possest you, that you swear no better? you half-Christned Catomites, you ungod-mothered Varlets, do’s the first lesson teach you to be proud, and the second to be Cocks-combs? proud Cocks-combs! not once to do duty to a man of Mark!
FRAILTY.
A man of Mark, quatha! I do not think he can shew a Begger’s
Noble.
CORPORAL. A Corporal, a Commander, one of spirit, that is able to blow you up all dry with your Books at your Girdles.
SIMON. We are not taught to believe that, sir, for we know the breath of man is weak.
[Corporal breathes upon Frailty.]