And though you have a far better face than I,
Yet who is better man of us two these fists shall try,
Unless you leave your taunting.
Jack. Thou began’st first; didst thou now not say even now,
That Carisophus my master was no man but a cow,
In taking so many blows, and gave[89] never a blow again?
Will. I said so indeed, he is but a tame ruffian,
That can swear by his flask and twich-box,[90] and God’s precious lady,
And yet will be beaten with a faggot-stick.
These barking whelps were never good biters,