Part 19 (2/2)

_Sam._ My Lord, mine Uncle, is an honourable man, And what he offers, boh, boh, cold indeed, Having made choice of me, an unworthy kinsman, Yet take me with you: boh, boh, pestilence cold, Not altogether.

_La-writ._ Boh, boh, I say altogether.

_Sam._ You say you know not what then? boh, boh, Sir.

_La-writ._ Sir me with your sword in your hand; You have a scurvy Uncle, you have a most scurvy cause, And you are--boh, boh.

_Sam._ Boh, boh, what?

_La-writ._ A s.h.i.+tten scurvy Cousin.

_Samp._ Our Swords; our Swords; Thou art a Dog, and like a Dog, our Swords.

_La-w._ Our weapons Gentlemen: ha? where's your second?

_Sam._ Where's yours?

_La-writ._ So ho; our weapons.

_Sam._ Wa, ha, ho, our weapons; Our Doublets and our weapons, I am dead.

_La-w._ First, second, third, a pl---- be wi' you Gentlemen.

_Sam._ Are these the rules of honour? I am starv'd.

_La-w._ They are gone, and we are here; what shall we do?

_Sam._ O for a couple of f.a.ggots.

_La-w._ Hang a couple of f.a.ggots.

Dar'st thou take a killing cold with me?

_Sam._ I have it already.

_La-w._ Rogues, Thieves, boh, boh, run away with our Doublets?

To fight at Buffets now, 'twere such a May-game.

_Sam._ There were no honour in't, pl---- on't, 'tis scurvy.

_La-w._ Or to revenge my wrongs at fisty-cuffes.

_Sam._ My Lord, mine Uncles cause, depend on Boxes?

_La-w._ Let's go in quest, if we ever recover 'em.

_Sam._ I, come, our Colds together, and our Doublets.

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