BOB. Of whom? of whom, I pray?

MAT. Faith, I have heard it spoken of divers, that you have very
rare skill, sir.

BOB. By heaven, no, not I, no skill in the earth: some small
science, know my time, distance, or so, I have profest it more for
noblemen and gentlemen's use than mine own practise, I assure you.
Hostess, lend us another bed-staff here quickly: look you, sir,
exalt not your point above this state at any hand, and let your
poniard maintain your defence thus: give it the gentleman. So,
sir, come on, oh, twine your body more about, that you may come to
a more sweet comely gentlemanlike guard; so indifferent. Hollow
your body more, sir, thus: now stand fast on your left leg, note
your distance, keep your due proportion of time: oh, you disorder
your point most vilely.

MAT. How is the bearing of it now, sir?

BOB. Oh, out of measure ill, a well-experienced man would pass
upon you at pleasure.

MAT. How mean you pass upon me?

BOB. Why, thus, sir: make a thrust at me; come in upon my time;
control your point, and make a full career at the body: the
best-practis'd gentlemen of the time term it the passado, a most
desperate thrust, believe it.