Sir J. Sancho, my ’squire, help me on with my armour.

Tai. Oh! dear gentleman! I shall be quite undone if you take the sack.

Sir J. Retire, sirrah! and, since you carry off your skin, go home, and be happy. [Exit Tailor. They dress Sir J.] So! how do you like my shapes now?

Lord R. To a miracle! he looks like a queen of the Amazons. But to your arms, gentlemen! the enemy’s upon their march; here’s the watch.

Sir J. Oons! if it were Alexander the Great, at the head of his army, I would drive him into a horsepond.

All. Huzza! Oh, brave knight!

Enter Watchmen.

Sir J. See! here he comes, with all his Greeks about him: follow me, boys.

1 Watch. Heyday! Who have we got here? stand!

Sir J. Mayhap not.

1 Watch. What are you all doing here in the streets at this time of night? And who are you, madam, that seems to be at the head of this noble crew?

Sir J. Sirrah, I am Bonduca, queen of the Welshmen; and with a leek as long as my pedigree, I will destroy your Roman legions in an instant. Britons, strike home! [Snatches a Watchman’s staff, strikes at the Watch, drives them off, and returns in custody.

1 Watch. So! we have got the queen, however. We’ll make her pay well for her ransom. Come, madam, will your majesty please to walk before the constable?

Sir J. The constable’s a rascal, and you are a son of a whore

1 Watch. A most noble reply, truly! If this be her royal style, I’ll warrant her maids of honour prattle prettily: but we’ll teach you some of our court dialect before we part with you, princess. Away with her to the round- house.

Sir J. Hands off, you ruffians! My honour’s dearer to me than my life; I hope you won’t be so uncivil.

1 Watch. Away with her.


SCENE II—A chamber


Heart. What the plague ails me? Love! No, I thank you for that; my heart’s rock still. Yet, ’tis Belinda that disturbs me, that’s positive. Well, what of all that? Must I love her for being troublesome? At that rate, I might love all the women I meet, egad! But hold! though I don’t love her for disturbing me, yet she may disturb me, because I love her. Ay, that may be, faith. I have dreamt of her, that’s certain. Well, so I have of my mother; therefore, what’s that to the purpose? Ay, but Belindra runs in my mind waking—and so does many a d—d thing, that I don’t care a farthing for. Methinks, though, I would fain be talking to her, and yet I have no business. Well am I the first man that has had a mind to do an impertinent thing?

  By PanEris using Melati.

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