Signor Fabian, stay you by this gentleman till my return for you, sir.

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

I know that the knight is incensed against you even to a mortal arbitrament, but nothing of the circumstance more.

I beseech you, what manner of man is he?

He is indeed, sir, the most skillful, bloody and fatal opposite you could have possibly found in all of Illyria.

Would you walk towards him?

Nuh-uh!

I will make your peace with him - if I can.

I shall be much bound to you for it.

I am one that had rather go with Sir Priest than Sir Knight, I care not who knows so much of my mettle.

[yelps] [yelps] Pox on 't!

I'll not meddle with him.

Ay, but he will not now be pacified.

Fabian can scarce hold him yonder.

Plague on it!

An I thought he had been valiant, I'd have seen him damned ere I'd have challenged him.

[cries] Let him the matter slip and I'll give him my horse.

I'll make the motion.

[whistles] Stand here awhile, make a good show on 't.

This shall end without the perdition of souls.

Sir, there's no remedy.

He'll fight with you for his own sake.

Therefore draw in supportance of his vow.

He protests he will not hurt you.

Pray God defend me!

A little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of a man.

Give ground if you see him furious.

Come, Sir Andrew.

There's no remedy.

[cries] Come on, sir, to 't.

Oh!

Oh!

I pray God he keep his oath!

I do assure you 'tis against my will.

Fight!

[screams]