Hip. Oh, an apple-squire.[316]
Bots. Yes, sir, that degree of scurvy squires; and that I am maintained by the best part that is commonly in a woman, by the worst players of those parts; but I am known to all this company.
Lod. My lord, ’tis true, we all know him, ’tis Lieutenant Bots.
Duke. Bots, and where ha’ you served, Bots?
Bots. In most of your hottest services in the Low-countries: at the Groyne I was wounded in this thigh, and halted upon’t, but ’tis now sound. In Cleveland I missed but little, having the bridge of my nose broken down with two great stones, as I was scaling a fort. I ha’ been tried, sir, too, in Gelderland, and ’scaped hardly there from being blown up at a breach: I was fired, and lay i’ th’ surgeon’s hands for’t, till the fall of the leaf following.
Hip. All this may be, and yet you no soldier.
Bots. No soldier, sir? I hope these are services that your proudest commanders do venture upon, and never come off sometimes.
Duke. Well, sir, because you say you are a soldier,
I’ll use you like a gentleman.—Make room there,
Plant him amongst you; we shall have anon
Strange hawks fly here before us: if none light
On you, you shall with freedom take your flight:
But if you prove a bird of baser wing,
We’ll use you like such birds, here you shall sing.
Bots. I wish to be tried at no other weapon.
Duke. Why, is he furnished with those implements?