PROS. Where bought you it, Signior?

STEP. Of a scurvy rogue soldier, a pox of God on
him, he swore it was a Toledo.

BOB. A provant rapier, no better.

MAT. Mass, I think it be indeed.

LOR. JU. Tut, now it's too late to look on it, put it
up, put it up.

STEP. Well, I will not put it up, but by God's foot,
an ever I meet him --

PROS. Oh, it is past remedy now, sir, you must have
patience.

STEP. Whoreson, coney-catching rascal; oh, I could
eat the very hilts for anger.

LOR. JU. A sign you have a good ostrich stomach, cousin.

STEP. A stomach? would I had him here, you should see
an I had a stomach.

PROS. It's better as 'tis: come, gentlemen, shall we go?

LOR. JU. A miracle, cousin, look here, look here.