And false enchanters, that with magic spells
Have done to death full many a noble knight.
Host. Thou valiant Knight of the Burning Pestle, give ear to me: there is twelve shillings to pay, and as I am a true knight, I will not bate a penny.
Wife. George, I prithee tell me, must Ralph pay twelve shillings now?
Cit. No, Nell, no, nothing; but the old knight is merry with Ralph.
Wife. O, is't nothing else? Ralph will be as merry as he.
Ralph. Sir Knight, this mirth of yours becomes you well,
But to requite this liberal courtesy,
If any of your squires will follow arms,
He shall receive from my heroic hand