Sir To.

Gentleman, God save thee.

Vio.

And you, Sir.

Sir To.

That defence thou hast, betake thee to't; of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know not; but thy interpreter, full of despight, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the orchard-end; dismount

thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skilful, and deadly.

Vio.

You mistake, Sir; I am sure, no man hath any quarrel to me; my remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offence done to any man.

Sir To.

You'll find it otherwise, I assure you; therefore, if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard; for your opposite hath in him, what youth, strength, skill, and wrath can furnish man withal.

Vio.

I pray you, Sir, what is he?

Sir To.

He is Knight, dubb'd with unhack'd^{2 note} rapier, and on carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private brawl; souls and bodies hath he divorc'd three; and his incensement at this moment is so implacable, that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death and sepulcher: hob, nob, is his word; give't, or take't.

Vio.

I will return again into the house, and desire some conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have heard of some kind of men, that put quarrels purposely on others to taste their valour: belike, this is a man of that quirk.

Sir To.

Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a very competent injury; therefore get you on, and give him his desire. Back you shall not to the house, unless you undertake that with me, which with as much safety you might answer him; therefore on, or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you must, that's certain, or forswear to wear iron about you.

Vio.

This is as uncivil, as strange. I beseech you, do me this courteous office, as to know of the Knight what my offence to him is: it is something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose.

Sir To.

I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman, 'till my return.

Vio.

Pray you, Sir, do you know of this matter?

Fab.

I know, the Knight is incens'd against you, even to a mortal arbitrement; but nothing of the circumstance more.

Vio.

I beseech you, what manner of man is he?

Fab.

Nothing of that wonderful promise to read him by his form, as you are like to find in the proof of his valour. He is, indeed, Sir, the most skilful, bloody, and fatal opposite that you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria: will you walk towards him? I will make your peace with him, if I can.

Vio.

I shall be much bound to you for't: I am one, that had rather go with Sir Priest than Sir Knight: I care not who knows so much of my mettle.