Nich. Well, I see the foole will not leave his bable[1884] for the Tower of London.
Coo. Foole, ye roge! nay, then, fall to it.
Nic. Good goose, bite not. 255
Coo. Sbloud, how pursey I am! Well, I see exercise is all: I must practise my weapons oftner; I must have a goale or two at foote-ball before I come to my right kind [Aside].—Give me thy hand, Nicholas: thou art a better man then I took thee for, and yet thou art not so good a man as I. 260
Ni. You dwell by ill neighbours, Richard; that makes yee praise your selfe.
Coo. Why, I hope thou wilt say I am a man?
Ni. Yes, Ile say so, if I should see yee[1885] hangd. 264
Coo. Hangd, ye roge! nay, then, have at yee. [While they fight, exeunt Hodge, and Boy with the torch.] Swones,[1886] the light is gone!
Ni. O Lord, it is as darke as pitch!
Coo. Well, heere Ile lye, with my buckler thus, least striking up and downe at randall,[1887] the roge might hurt me, for I cannot see to save it, and Ile hold my peace, least my voyce should bring him where I am. 271