HUMBER.
Hubba, go take a coronet of our horse,
As many lancers, and light armed knights
As may suffice for such an enterprise,
And place them in the grove of Caledon.
With these, when as the skirmish doth increase,
Retire thou from the shelters of the wood,
And set upon the weakened Troyans' backs,
For policy joined with chivalry
Can never be put back from victory.

[Exit. Albanact enter and say (clowns with him).]

ALBA.
Thou base born Hun, how durst thou be so bold
As once to menace warlike Albanact,
The great commander of these regions?
But thou shalt buy thy rashness with thy death,
And rue too late thy over bold attempts;
For with this sword, this instrument of death,
That hath been drenched in my foe-men's blood,
I'll separate thy body from they head,
And set that coward blood of thine abroach.

STRUMBO.
Nay, with this staff, great Strumbo's instrument,
I'll crack thy cockscomb, paltry Scithian.

HUMBER.