3 Sold. And that’s all one.

Pet. Nor drunk nor slept these two months.

Judas. Captain, we do beseech you, as poor soldiers,
Men that have seen good days, whose mortal stomachs
May sometimes feel afflictions—

[To Junius.

Jun. This, Petillius,
Is not so nobly done.

Pet. ’Tis common profit;
Urge him to th’ point, he’ll find you out a food
That needs no teeth nor stomach; a strange furmity
Will feed you up as fat as hens i’ th’ foreheads,
And make ye fight like fichoks; to him.

Judas. Captain—

Jun. Do you long to have your throats cut?

Pet. See what mettle
It makes in him: Two meals more of this melancholy,
And there lies Caratach.

Judas. We do beseech you—

2 Sold. Humbly beseech your valour—

Jun. Am I only
Become your sport, Petillius?

Judas. But to render
In way of general good, in preservation—

Jun. Out of my thoughts, ye slaves!

4 Sold. Or rather pity—

3 Sold. Your warlike remedy against the maw-worms.

Judas. Or notable receipt to live by nothing.

Pet. Out with your table-books!

Jun. Is this true friendship?
And must my killing griefs make others’ May-games?

[Draws.

[Exit Junius.

Judas. Alas, he lives by love, sir.

Pet. So he does, sir;
And cannot you do so too? All my company
Are now in love; ne’er think of meat, nor talk
Of what provant is: Ay-mes, and hearty hey-hoes
Are sallads fit for soldiers. Live by meat?
By larding up your bodies? ’tis lewd, and lazy,
And shows ye merely mortal, dull, and drives ye
To fight, like camels, with baskets at your noses.
Get ye in love! Ye can whore well enough,
That all the world knows; fast