Ralph. No, thus: Fair sir, the Right courteous and valiant Knight of the Burning Pestle, commanded me to inquire upon what adventure you are bound, whether to relieve some distressed damsel or otherwise.
Cit. Dunder blockhead cannot remember.
Wife. I'faith, and Ralph told him on't before; all the gentlemen heard him; did he not, gentlemen, did not Ralph tell him on't?
George. Right courteous and valiant Knight of the Burning Pestle, here is a distressed damsel to have a halfpenny-worth of pepper.
Wife. That's a good boy, see, the little boy can hit it; by my troth it's a fine child.
Ralph. Relieve her with all courteous language; now shut up shop: no more my prentice, but my trusty squire and dwarf, I must bespeak my shield, and arming pestle.
Cit. Go thy ways, Ralph, as I am a true man, thou art the best on 'em all.
Wife. Ralph! Ralph!
Ralph. What say you, mistress?