1932Locr. Tell me, Assaracus, are the Cornish chuffes

1933In such great number come to Mertia,

1934And have they pitched there their host,

1935So close unto our Royal mansion?

1936Assa. They are, my Lord, and mean incontinent

1937To bid defiance to your Majesty.

1938Locr. It makes me laugh, to think that Guendoline

1939Should have the heart to come in armes 'gainst me.

1940Estr. Alas, my Lord, the horse will run amain

1941When as the spur doth gall him to the bone;

1942Jealousie, Locrine, hath a wicked sting.

1943Locr. Sayst thou so, Estrild, Beauties paragon?

1944Well, we will try her choler to the proof,

1945And make her know, Locrine can brook no braves.

1946March on, Assarachus, thou must lead the way,