Enter Dicke Bowyer and soldiers, with Drum and colours.
Bow. Stand, give the word along, stand.
Lieu. Stand there!
Bow. Lieutenant.
Lieu. Captayne.
Bow. Is the watch set in the King's quarter yet.
Lieu. An houre agoe.
Bow. 'Zounds what foolish Canaanits were they to run in debt to their eyes for an houres sleepe sooner then they needed! Sergeant.
Ser. Anon, Sir.
Bow. Anon, Sir! s'hart the Rogue answers like a Drawer, but tis the tricke of most of these Sergeants, all clincum clancum. Gods dynes[118], I am an Onyon if I had not rather serve formost in the forlorne hoope of a battell or runne poynt blancke against the mouth of a double charged Cannon then come under the arrests of some their pewter pessels. Zounds, tis hotter a great deale then hell mouth and Dives burning in Sulphur: but thou art none of the genealogy of them. Where must we watch to night?