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Updated: August 20, 2024
Come along; nay now I feare my honesty is betrayd; a horseman proudly mounted makes towards me, and 'tis a Don that thinkes himselfe as brave as St. Jaques. What shall I doe? there is no starting; I must stand th'encounter. Lye still a while & pray if thou canst, while I doe my best to save my owne & the litle breath thou hast left.
I charge ye draw your Guard off and disperce 'em: I have a powre as full as theirs. Cap. You'll find not; And I must have ye with me. Bar. And am I subiect That have stood the brunt of all their busines, And when they slept watcht to secure their slombers, Subiect to slights, to scornes, to taynts, to tortures? To feed one privat mallice am I betrayd?
You have sold me, Rogues, betrayd me: fire the Cart, I say, Or heave it into th' Moat. Hunt. We have not men enough. Will ye goe in? the Cuntry will rise presently, And then you shall see, Sir, how wee'll buckle with 'em. Mod. I see I am undon: the hay choakes all, I cannot get beside it. Enter Captaine & Soldiers. Cap. Stir not a foote, For he that do's has mett his preist.
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