A street
Enter Fustigo, Crambo and Poh.
FUSTIGO
[Giving them money] Hold up your hands, gentlemen: here’s one, two, three — nay, I warrant, they are sound pistols and without flaws, I had them of my sister, and I know she uses to put up nothing that’s crack’d — three, four, five, six, seven, eight and nine. By this hand bring me but a piece of his blood, and you shall have nine more. I’ll lurk in a tavern not far off, and provide supper to close up the end of the tragedy. The linen-draper’s, remember: stand to’t, I beseech you, and play your parts perfectly.
CRAMBO
Look you, signior, ’tis not your gold that we weigh.
FUSTIGO
Nay, nay, weigh it and spare not; if it lack one grain of corn, I’ll give you a bushel of wheat to make it up.
CRAMBO
But by your favour, signior, which of the servants is it, because we’ll punish justly.
FUSTIGO
Marry, ’tis the head man; you shall taste him by his tongue: a pretty, tall, prating fellow with a Tuscalonian beard.
POH
Tuscalonian: very good.
FUSTIGO
Cods life, I was ne’er so thrumm’d since I was a gentleman: my coxcomb was dry-beaten as if my hair had been hemp!
CRAMBO
We’ll dry-beat some of them.
FUSTIGO
Nay, it grew so high that my sister cried murder out very manfully: I have her consent in a manner to have him pepper’d, else I’ll not do’t to win more than ten cheaters do at a rifling. Break but his pate or so, only his mazer, because I’ll have his head in a cloth as well as mine; he’s a linen-draper and may take enough. I could enter mine action of battery against him, but we mayhaps be both dead and rotten before the lawyers would end it.
CRAMBO
No more to do but ensconce yourself i’ th’ tavern; provide no great cheer, couple of capons, some pheasants, plovers, an orangeado pie or so: but how bloody soe’er the day be, sally you not forth.
FUSTIGO
No, no, nay, if I stir, somebody shall stink; I’ll not budge: I’ll lie like a dog in a manger.
CRAMBO
Well, well, to the tavern; let not our supper be raw, for you shall have blood enough, your belly full.
FUSTIGO
That’s all, so God sa’ me, I thirst after: blood for blood, bump for bump, nose for nose, head for head, plaster for plaster, and so farewell. What shall I call your names, because I’ll leave word if any such come to the bar.
CRAMBO
My name is Corporal Crambo.
POH
And mine, Lieutenant Poh.
CRAMBO
Poh is as tall a man as ever opened oyster; I would not be the devil to meet Poh. Farewell.
FUSTIGO
Nor I, by this light, if Poh be such a Poh.
Exeunt.