STRUMBO.
No, as I am a true gentleman.

WILLIAM.
Then will we school you, ere you and we part hence.

[They fight. Enter Margery and snatch the staff out
of her brother's hand, as he is fighting.]

STRUMBO.
Aye, you come in pudding time, or else I had dressed them.

MARGERY.
You, master saucebox, lobcock, cockscomb, you slopsauce,
lickfingers, will you not hear?

STRUMBO.
Who speak you to? me?

MARGERY.
Aye, sir, to you, John lackhonesty, little wit. Is it you that
will have none of me?

STRUMBO.
No, by my troth, mistress nicebice. How fine you can
nickname me. I think you were brought up in the
university of bridewell; you have your rhetoric so ready
at your tongue's end, as if you were never well warned
when your were young.