STRUMBO. You are welcome, gentleman. What will you? any old shoes or buskins? or will you have your shoes clouted? I will do them as well as any Cobbler in Cathnes whatsoever.
CAPTAIN.
[Showing him press money.]
O master Cobbler, you are far deceived in me, for don you see this? I come not to buy any shoes, but to buy your self; come, sir, you must be a soldier in the king's cause.
STRUMBO. Why, but hear you, sir; has your king any commission to take any man against his will. I promise you, I can scant believe it; or did he give you commission?
CAPTAIN. O sir, ye need not care for that; I need no commission. Hold, here: I command you, in the name of our king Albanact, to appear tomorrow in the town-house of Cathnes.
STRUMBO. King Nactaball! I cry God mercy! what have we to do with him, or he with us? But you, sir master capontail, draw your pasteboard, or else I promise you, I'll give you a canuasado with a bastinado over your shoulders, and teach you to come hither with your implements.
CAPTAIN. I pray thee, good fellow, be content; I do the king's command.
STRUMBO. Put me out of your book, then.
CAPTAIN. I may not.
STRUMBO.
[Snatching up the staff.]
No! Well, come, sir, will your stomach serve you? by gog's blue hood and halidom, I will have a bout with you.
[Fight both. Enter Thrasimachus.]
THRASIMACHUS. How now, what noise, what sudden clamor's this? How now, my captain and the cobbler so hard at it? Sirs, what is your quarrel?
CAPTAIN. Nothing, sir, but that he will not take press money.
THRASIMACHUS. Here, good fellow; take it at my command, Unless you mean to be stretched.
STRUMBO. Truly, master gentleman, I lack no money; if you please, I will resign it to one of these poor fellows.
THRASIMACHUS. No such matter, Look you be at the common house tomorrow.
[Exit Thrasimachus and the captain.]
STRUMBO. O, wife, I have spun a fair thread! If I had been quiet, I had not been pressed, and therefore well may I wayment. But come, sirrah, shut up, for we must to the wars.
[Exeunt.]
ACT II. SCENE III. The camp of Albanact.
[Enter Albanact, Debon, Thrasimachus, and the Lords.]
ALBA. Brave cavalries, princes of Albany, Whose trenchant blades with our deceased sire, Passing the frontiers of brave Graecia, Were bathed in our enemies' lukewarm blood, Now is the time to manifest your wills, Your haughty minds and resolutions. Now opportunity is offered To try your courage and your earnest zeal, Which you always protest to Albanact; For at this time, yea, at this present time, Stout fugitives, come from the Scithians' bounds, Have pestered every place with mutinies. But trust me, Lordings, I will never cease To persecute the rascal runnagates, Till all the rivers, stained with their blood, Shall fully show their fatal overthrow.
DEBON. So shall your highness merit great renown, And imitate your aged father's steps.
ALBA. But tell me, cousin, camest thou through the plains? And sawest thou there the fain heart fugitives Mustering their weather-beaten soldiers? What order keep they in their marshalling?
THRASIMACHUS. After we passed the groves of Caledone, Where murmuring rivers slide with silent streams, We did behold the straggling Scithians' camp, Replete with men, stored with munition; There might we see the valiant minded knights Fetching careers along the spacious plains. Humber and Hubba armed in azure blue, Mounted upon their coursers white as snow, Went to behold the pleasant flowering fields; Hector and Troialus, Priamus lovely sons, Chasing the Graecians over Simoeis, Were not to be compared to these two knights.
ALBA. Well hast thou painted out in eloquence The portraiture of Humber and his son, As fortunate as was Policrates; Yet should they not escape our conquering swords, Or boast of ought but of our clemency.
[Enter Strumbo and Trompart, crying often; Wild fire and pitch, wild fire and pitch, &c.]
THRASIMACHUS. What, sirs! what mean you by these clamors made, These outcries raised in our stately court?
STRUMBO. Wild fire and pitch, wild fire and pitch.