Now, what's the matter? some brawl toward, I warrant you.

LANCELOT.
Go get me thy sword bright scoured, thy buckler mended.
O for that knave, that villain Daffodil would have done
good service. But to thee.

ARTICHOKE.
Aye, this is the tricks of all you gentlemen, when you
stand in need of a good fellow. O for that Daffodil, O
where is he? but if you be angry, and it be but for the
wagging of a straw, then: out a doors with the knave,
turn the coat over his ears. This is the humour of you all.

LANCELOT.
O for that knave, that lusty Daffodil.

ARTICHOKE.
Why, there tis now: our year's wages and our vails will
scarce pay for broken swords and bucklers that we use in
our quarrels. But I'll not fight if Daffodil be a tother side,
that's flat.

LANCELOT.
Tis no such matter, man. Get weapons ready, and be at
London ere the break of day: watch near the lodging of
the Devonshire youth, but be unseen: and as he goes out,
as he will go out, and that very early without doubt--

ARTICHOKE.