Staines. Come on, sir.
[They fight.
Spend. Now, sir, your life is mine.
Staines. Why then, take it, for I'll not beg it of thee.
Spend. Nobly resolv'd, I love thee for those words.
Here, take thy arms again, and, if thy malice
Have spent itself like mine, then let us part
More friendly than we met at first encounter.
Staines. Sir, I accept
This gift of you, but not your friendship,
Until I shall recover 't with my honour.
Spend. Will you fight again, then?
Staines. Yes.
Spend. Faith, thou dost well, then,
Justly to whip my folly. But come, sir.
Staines. Hold: y' are hurt, I take it.
Spend. Hurt! where? zounds, I feel it not.