Wife. Ay, and beat him well, he's an unhappy boy.
Boy. Sir, you must pardon us, the plot of our play lies contrary, and 'twill hazard the spoiling of our play.
Cit. Plot me no plots, I'll ha' Ralph come out; I'll make your house too hot for you else.
Boy. Why, sir, he shall; but if anything fall out of order, the gentlemen must pardon us.
Cit. Go your ways, goodman boy, I'll hold him a penny he shall have his belly full of fighting now. Ho, here comes Ralph; no more.
Enter Ralph, Mistress Merry-thought, Michael, Squire, and Dwarf.
Ralph. What knight is that, squire? Ask him if he keep
The passage bound by love of lady fair,
Or else but prickant.