755Hum. Hubba, go take a Coronet of our Horse,

756As many Launciers, and light-armed Knights,

757As may suffice for such an enterprise,

758And place them in the Grove of Calcedon,

759With these, when as the skirmish doth encrease,

760Retire thou from the shelters of the wood,

761And set upon the weakned Trojans backs,

762For policy joyned with Chivalry,

765Alb. Thou base born Hunne, how durst thou be so bold,

766As once to menace warlike Albanact?

767The great Commander of these Regions,

768But thou shalt buy thy rashnesse with thy death,

769And rue too late thy over-bold attempts,

770For with this Sword, this Instrument of death,

771That hath been drenched in my Foe-mens blood,

772I'le separate thy body from thy head,

773And set that Coward blood of thine abroach.

775I'le crack thy Cockscombe, paltry Scythian.

776Hum. Nor wreak I of thy threats, thou princox boy,

777Nor doe I fear thy foolish insolency,

778And but thou better use thy bragging blade,

779Then thou dost rule thy overflowing tongue,

780 Superbious Britain, thou shalt know too soon

781The force of Humber and his Scythians.

784Strum. O horrible, terrible.