this light parrel we have shall off, and we'll fight naked
afore we run away.

TOM.
Nay, I am of Laurence mind for that, for he means to
leave his life behind him; he and Leonard, your two
loaders, are making their wills because they have wives.
Now we Bachelors bid our friends scramble for our
goods if we die: but, master, pray ye, let me ride upon
Cutte.

MURLEY.
Meal and salt, wheat and malt, fire and tow, frost and
snow! why, Tom, thou shalt. Let me see: here are you,
William and George are with my cart, and Robin and
Hodge holding my own two horses: proper men, handsome
men, tall men, true men.

DICK.
But, master, master, me thinks you are a mad man to hazard
your own person and a cart load of money too.

TOM.
Yea, and, master, there's a worse matter in't. If it be as I
heard say, we go to fight against all the learned Bishops,
that should give us their blessing; and if they curse us, we
shall speed ne'er the better.

DICK.
Nay, bir lady, some say the King takes their part; and, master,