THRASIMACHUS.
How now, what noise, what sudden clamor's this?
How now, my captain and the cobbler so hard at it?
Sirs, what is your quarrel?

CAPTAIN.
Nothing, sir, but that he will not take press money.

THRASIMACHUS.
Here, good fellow; take it at my command,
Unless you mean to be stretched.

STRUMBO.
Truly, master gentleman, I lack no money; if you
please, I will resign it to one of these poor fellows.

THRASIMACHUS.
No such matter,
Look you be at the common house tomorrow.

[Exit Thrasimachus and the captain.]

STRUMBO.
O, wife, I have spun a fair thread! If I had been
quiet, I had not been pressed, and therefore well may
I wayment. But come, sirrah, shut up, for we must to
the wars.

[Exeunt.]