Enter Judas and four Soldiers.

Judas. A bean? a princely diet, a full banquet,
To what we compass.

1 Sold. Fight like hogs for acorns?

2 Sold. Venture our lives for pig-nuts?

Pet. What ail these rascals?

3 Sold. If this hold we are starved.

Judas. For my part, friends,
Which is but twenty beans a-day (a hard world
For officers, and men of action!)
And those so clipt by Master Mouse, and rotten—
(For understand ’em French beans, where the fruits
Are ripen’d like the people, in old tubs)
For mine own part, I say, I am starved already,
Not worth another bean, consumed to nothing,
Nothing but flesh and bones left, miserable:
Now if this musty provender can prick me
To honourable matters of atchievement, gentlemen,
Why, there’s the point.

4 Sold. I’ll fight no more.

Pet. You’ll hang then!
A sovereign help for hunger. Ye eating rascals,
Whose gods are beef and brewis! whose brave angers
Do execution upon these, and chibbals!
Ye dog’s head in the porridge-pot! ye fight no more?
Does Rome depend upon your resolution
For eating mouldy pie-crust?

3 Sold. ’Would we had it!

Judas. I may do service, captain.

Pet. In a fish-market.
You, corporal Curry-comb, what will your fighting
Profit the commonwealth? Do you hope to triumph?
Or dare your vamping valour, goodman Cobler,
Clap a new sole to th’ kingdom? ’Sdeath, ye dog-whelps,
You fight, or not fight!

Judas. Captain!

Pet. Out, ye flesh-flies!
Nothing but noise and nastiness!

Judas. Give us meat,
Whereby we may do.

Pet. Whereby hangs your valour?

Judas. Good bits afford good blows.

Pet. A good position:
How long is’t since thou eat’st last? Wipe thy mouth,
And then tell truth.

Judas. I have not eat to th’ purpose—

Pet. “To th’ purpose?” what’s that? half a cow and garlick?
Ye rogues, my company eat turf, and talk not;
Timber they can digest, and fight upon’t;
Old mats, and mud with spoons, rare meats. Your shoes, slaves;
Dare ye cry out for hunger, and those extant?
Suck your sword-hilts, ye slaves; if ye be valiant,
Honour will make ’em marchpane. “To the purpose?”
A grievous penance! Dost thou see that gentleman,
That melancholy monsieur?

Jun. Pray you, Petillius!

Pet. He has not eat these three weeks.

2 Sold. He has drunk the more then.