SIR JO. Oh, here a' comes--Ay, my Hector of Troy, welcome, my
bully, my Back; agad, my heart has gone a pit pat for thee.

BLUFF. How now, my young knight? Not for fear, I hope; he that
knows me must be a stranger to fear.

SIR JO. Nay, agad, I hate fear ever since I had like to have died
of a fright. But -

BLUFF. But? Look you here, boy, here's your antidote, here's your
Jesuits' powder for a shaking fit. But who hast thou got with
thee? is he of mettle? [Laying his hand upon his sword.]

SIR JO. Ay, bully, a devilish smart fellow: 'a will fight like a
cock.

BLUFF. Say you so? Then I honour him. But has he been abroad?
for every cock will fight upon his own dunghill.

SIR JO. I don't know, but I'll present you -

BLUFF. I'll recommend myself. Sir, I honour you; I understand you
love fighting, I reverence a man that loves fighting. Sir, I kiss
your hilts.

SHARP. Sir, your servant, but you are misinformed, for, unless it
be to serve my particular friend, as Sir Joseph here, my country,
or my religion, or in some very justifiable cause, I'm not for it.

BLUFF. O Lord, I beg your pardon, sir, I find you are not of my