Constable. Hold, hold, sir knight; the dragon's my neighbour—he's a tailor in my neighbourhood.
2nd Masquer. Open the dragon; open the dragon; keep the peace; take out the tailor.
Lawyer Masquer. Take care what you do; take care what you do. If he is a denizen, the law is very severe.—Though there are nine to make up a man, by a fiction of law it is murder to kill any one of them: the law supposes him a whole man.
1st Steward. Ho! Mr. Fly-flap, Mr. Wardrobe-keeper, give the company an account of the knight and of his horse.
Wardrobe-keeper. This is the poet's horse that trod down all the persons who have been killed in tragedy ever since I came to the house. The gentleman that rides him has some verses about him, if he would speak them.
Many Masquers. Hear, hear!—Hear the verses!
St. George. On this bold steed, with this dead-doing arm,
Without art magic, help of draught or charm,
Crowds have I slain, and routed from the field,
Or made, as captives, to my mercy yield.
My horse and me none could escape by flying,
But saved their lives by well dissembled dying.
Cobbler Masquer. Very well, very well, i'faith. Look ye, look ye, gentlemen, I know the humour of that. I live just by in Vinegar Yard, and I know the humour of that. You must know he means by that—that by pretending to be dead, the men whom the valiant man in the play rides over, or cuts down, are carried [off] safe and sound. Why, I have been called in, when there has been a great battle in the house, to help to carry off the dead; and I have brought a man off dead over-night, and mended his shoes next morning.
4th Masquer. Ho, brave Crispin!—that's a good jest, i'faith.