Bac. No, nor nature neither; though they are
Things fitter, I must confess, for anything
Than my remembrance, or any honest man’s:
What shall these billets do? be piled up in my woodyard?

Bes. Your lordship holds your mirth still, heaven continue it!
But, for these gentlemen, they come—

Bac. To swear you are a coward? Spare your book;
I do believe it.

Bes. Your lordship still draws wide;
They come to vouch, under their valiant hands,
I am no coward.

Bac. That would be a show, indeed, worth seeing. Sirs,
Be wise and take money for this motion, travel with’t;
And where the name of Bessus has been known,
Or a good coward stirring, ’twill yield more than
A tilting. This will prove more beneficial to you,
If you be thrifty, than your captainship,
And more natural. Men of most valiant hands,
Is this true?

2 Sw. It is so, most renowned.

Bac. ’Tis somewhat strange.

1 Sw. Lord, it is strange, yet true.
We have examined, from your lordship’s foot there
To this man’s head, the nature of the beatings;
And we do find his honour is come off
Clean and sufficient: This, as our swords shall help us.

Bac. You are much bound to your bilbo-men;
I am glad you’re straight again, captain. ’Twere good
You would think some way how to gratify them;
They have undergone a labour for you, Bessus,
Would have puzzled Hercules with all his valour.

2 Sw. Your lordship must understand we are no men
Of the law, that take pay for our opinions;
It is sufficient we have cleared our friend.

Bac. Yet there is something due, which I, as touch’d
In conscience, will discharge.—Captain, I’ll pay
This rent for you.

Bes. Spare yourself, my good lord;
My brave friends aim at nothing but the virtue.

Bac. That’s but a cold discharge, sir, for the pains.

2 Sw. Oh, lord! my good lord!

Bac. Be not so modest; I will give you something.

Bes. They shall dine with your lordship; that’s sufficient.

Bac. Something in hand the while. You rogues, you apple-squires.
Do you come hither, with your bottled valour,
Your windy froth, to limit out my beatings?

[Kicks them.

1 Sw. I do beseech your lordship.

2 Sw. Oh, good lord!

Bac. ’Sfoot, what a bevy of beaten slaves are here!—
Get me a cudgel, sirrah, and a tough one.

[Exit Servant.

2 Sw. More of your foot, I do beseech your lordship.