Duke. Is’t silk ’tis lined with, then?
Cat. Silk? Ay, silk, master slave, you would be glad to wipe your nose with the skirt on’t. This ’tis to come among a company of cod’s-heads[328] that know not how to use a gentlewoman.
Duke. Tell her the duke is here.
1st Mast. Be modest, Kate, the duke is here.
Cat. If the devil were here, I care not: set forward, ye rogues, and give attendance according to your places! Let bawds and whores be sad, for I’ll sing an the devil were a-dying. [Exit with Mistress Horseleech and Beadles.
Duke. Why before her does the basin ring?
1st Mast. It is an emblem of their revelling,
The whips we use let forth their wanton blood,
Making them calm; and more to calm their pride,
Instead of coaches they in carts do ride.
Will your grace see more of this bad ware?
Duke. No, shut up shop, we’ll now break up the fair,
Yet ere we part—you, sir, that take upon ye
The name of soldier, that true name of worth,
Which, action, not vain boasting, best sets forth,
To let you know how far a soldier’s name
Stands from your title, and to let you see,
Soldiers must not be wronged where princes be:
This be your sentence.
All. Defend yourself, Bots.