APP. Or Gulono the gutty serjeant, or Delphino the vintner, or else I know you not; for these are all my acquaintance.
MEN. Would I were hanged, if I be any of these!
APP. What, Mendacio! By the faith of a knight, thou art welcome; I must borrow thy whetstone, to sharpen the edges of my martial compliments.
MEN. By the faith of a knight! What a pox, where are thy spurs?[207]
APP. I need no spurs; I ride, like Pegasus, on a winged horse—on a swift jennet, my boy, called Fear.
MEN. What shouldst thou fear in the wars? He's not a good soldier that hath not a good stomach.
APP. O, but the stink of powder spoils Appetitus's stomach, and then thou knowest, when 'tis gone, Appetitus is dead; therefore I very manfully drew my sword, and flourished it bravely about mine ears, hist![208] and finding myself hurt, most manfully ran away.
MEN. All heart indeed, for thou rann'st like a hart out of the field. It seems, then, the Senses mean to fight it out.
APP. Ay, and outfight themselves, I think; and all about a trifle, a paltry bauble found, I know not where.
MEN. Thou art deceived: they fight for more than that; a thing called superiority, of which the crown is but an emblem.