Chapter II: Part 2

_Beaup._ I know no duty, (How ever you may wreak your spleen on him,) That bindes me to endure this.

_Cham._ From _Dinant_ You'l suffer more; that ever cursed I, Should give my honour up, to the defence Of such a thing as he is, or my Lady That is all Innocent, for whom a dove would Assume the courage of a daring Eagle, Repose her confidence in one that can No better guard her. In contempt of you I love _Dinant_, mine enemy, nay admire him, His valour claims it from me, and with justice, He that could fight thus, in a cause not honest, His sword edg'd with defence of right and honour, Would pierce as deep as lightning, with that speed too, And kill as deadly.

_Verd._ You are as far from justice In him you praise, as equitie in the censure You load me with.

_Beaup._ _Dinant?_ he durst not meet us.

_Lam._ How? durst not, Brother?

_Beaup._ Durst not, I repeat it.

_Verd._ Nor was it _Cleremont_'s valour that disarm'd us, I had the better of him; for _Dinant_, If that might make my peace with you, I dare Write him a Coward upon every post, And with the hazard of my life defend it.

_Lam._ If 'twere laid at the stake you'd lose it, Nephew.

_Cham._ Came he not, say you?

_Verd._ No, but in his room, There was a Devil, hir'd from some Magician I'th' shape of an Atturney.

_Beau._ 'Twas he did it.

_Verd._ And his the honour.

_Beau._ I could wish _Dinant_-- But what talk I of one that stept aside, And durst not come?

_Lam._ I am such a friend to truth, I cannot hear this: why do you detract Thus poorly (I should say to others basely) From one of such approv'd worth?

_Cham._ Ha! how's this?

_Lam._ From one so excellent in all that's noble, Whose only weakness is excess of courage? That knows no enemies, that he cannot master, But his affections, and in them, the worst His love to me.

_Cham._ To you?

_Lam._ Yes, Sir, to me, I dare (for what is that which Innocence dares not) To you profess it: and he shun'd not the Combat For fear or doubt of these: blush and repent, That you in thought e're did that wrong to valour.

_Beaup._ Why, this is rare.

_Cham._ 'Fore heaven, exceeding rare; Why modest Lady, you that sing such Encomiums Of your first Suiter--

_Verd._ How can ye convince us In your reports?

_Lam._ With what you cannot answer, 'Twas my command that staid him.

_Cham._ Your command?

_Lam._ Mine, Sir, and had my will rank'd with my power, And his obedience, I could have sent him With more ease, weaponless to you, and bound, Than have kept him back, so well he loves his honour Beyond his life.

_Cham._ Better, and better still.

_Lam._ I wrought with him in private to divert him From your assur'd destruction, had he met you.

_Cham._ In private?

_Lam._ Yes, and us'd all Arts, all Charms Of one that knew her self the absolute Mistris Of all his faculties.

_Cham._ Gave all rewards too His service could deserve; did not he take The measure of my sheets?

_Lam._ Do not look yellow, I have cause to speak; frowns cannot fright me, By all my hopes, as I am spotless to you, If I rest once assur'd you do but doubt me, Or curb me of that freedom you once gave me--

_Cham._ What then?

_Lam._ I'le not alone abuse your bed, that's nothing, But to your more vexation, 'tis resolv'd on, I'le run away, and then try if _Dinant_ Have courage to defend me.

_Champ._ Impudent!

_Verd._ And on the sudden--

_Beau._ How are ye transform'd From what you were?

_Lam._ I was an innocent Virgin, And I can truly swear, a Wife as pure As ever lay by Husband, and will dy so, Let me live unsuspected, I am no servant, Nor will be us'd like one: If you desire To keep me constant as I would be, let Trust and belief in you beget and nurse it; Unnecessary jealousies make more whores Than all baits else laid to entrap our frailties.

_Beau._ There's no contesting with her, from a child Once mov'd, she hardly was to be appeas'd, Yet I dare swear her honest.

_Cham._ So I think too, On better judgement: I am no Italian To lock her up; nor would I be a Dutchman, To have my Wife, my soveraign, to command me: I'le try the gentler way, but if that fail, Believe it, Sir, there's nothing but extreams Which she must feel from me.

_Beau._ That, as you please, Sir.

_Charl._ You have won the breeches, Madam, look up sweetly, My Lord limps toward you.

_Lam._ You will learn more manners.

_Charl._ This is a fee, for counsel that's unask'd for.

_Cham._ Come, I mistook thee sweet, prethee forgive me, I never will be jealous: e're I cherish Such a mechanick humour, I'le be nothing; I'le say, _Dinant_ is all that thou wouldst have him, Will that suffice?

_Lam._ 'Tis well, Sir.

_Cham._ Use thy freedom Uncheck'd, and unobserv'd, if thou wilt have it, These shall forget their honour, I my wrongs. We'll all dote on him, hell be my reward If I dissemble.

_Lam._ And that hell take me If I affect him, he's a lustfull villain, (But yet no coward) and sollicites me To my dishonour, that's indeed a quarrel, And truly mine, which I will so revenge, As it shall fright such as dare only think To be adulterers.

_Cham._ Use thine own waies, I give up all to thee.

_Beau._ O women, women! When you are pleas'd you are the least of evils.

_Verd._ I'le rime to't, but provokt, the worst of Devils. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Monsieur_ Sampson, _and three Clients_.

_Samp._ I know Monsieur _La-writ_.

_1 Cly._ Would he knew himself, Sir.

_Samp._ He was a pretty Lawyer, a kind of pretty Lawyer, Of a kind of unable thing.

_2 Cly._ A fine Lawyer, Sir, And would have firk'd you up a business, And out of this Court into that.

_Samp._ Ye are too forward Not so fine my friends, something he could have done, But short short.

_1 Cly._ I know your worships favour, You are Nephew to the Judge, Sir.

_Samp._ It may be so, And something may be done, without trotting i'th' dirt, friends; It may be I can take him in his Chamber, And have an hours talk, it may be so, And tell him that in's ear; there are such courtesies; I will not say, I can.

_3 Cly._ We know you can, Sir.

_Sam._ Peradventure I, peradventure no: but where's _La-writ_? Where's your sufficient Lawyer?

_1 Cly._ He's blown up, Sir.

_2 Cly._ Run mad and quarrels with the Dog he meets; He is no Lawyer of this world now.

_Sam._ Your reason? Is he defunct? is he dead?

_2 Cly._ No he's not dead yet, Sir; But I would be loth to take a lease on's life for two hours: Alas, he is possest Sir, with the spirit of fighting And quarrels with all people; but how he came to it--

_Samp._ If he fight well and like a Gentleman, The man may fight, for 'tis a lawfull calling. Look you my friends, I am a civil Gentleman, And my Lord my Uncle loves me.

_3 Cly._ We all know it, Sir.

_Sam._ I think he does, Sir, I have business too, much business, Turn you some forty or fifty Causes in a week; Yet when I get an hour of vacancie, I can fight too my friends, a little does well, I would be loth to learn to fight.

_1 Cly._ But and't please you Sir, His fighting has neglected all our business, We are undone, our causes cast away, Sir, His not appearance.

_Sam._ There he fought too long, A little and fight well, he fought too long indeed friends; But ne'r the less things must be as they may, And there be wayes--

_1 Cly._ We know, Sir, if you please--

_Sam._ Something I'le do: goe rally up your Causes.

_Enter_ La-writ, _and a_ Gentleman, _at the door_.

_2 Cly._ Now you may behold Sir, And be a witness, whether we lie or no.

_La-writ._ I'le meet you at the Ordinary, sweet Gentlemen, And if there be a wench or two--

_Gen._ We'll have 'em.

_La-writ._ No handling any Duells before I come, We'll have no going else, I hate a coward.

_Gent._ There shall be nothing done.

_La-writ._ Make all the quarrels You can devise before I come, and let's all fight, There is no sport else.

_Gent._ We'll see what may be done, Sir.

_1 Cly._ Ha? Monsieur _La-writ_.

_La-writ._ Baffled in way of business, My causes cast away, Judgement against us? Why there it goes.

_2 Cly._ What shall we do the whilst Sir?

_La-wr._ Breed new dissentions, goe hang your selves 'Tis all one to me; I have a new trade of living.

_1 Cli._ Do you hear what he saies Sir?

_Sam._ The Gentleman speaks finely.

_La-wr._ Will any of you fight? Fighting's my occupation If you find your selves aggriev'd.

_Sam._ A compleat Gentleman.

_La-writ._ Avant thou buckram budget of petitions, Thou spittle of lame causes; I lament for thee, And till revenge be taken--

_Sam._ 'Tis most excellent.

_La-wr._ There, every man chuse his paper, and his place. I'le answer ye all, I will neglect no mans business But he shall have satisfaction like a Gentleman, The Judge may do and not do, he's but a Monsieur.

_Sam._ You have nothing of mine in your bag, Sir.

_La-writ._ I know not Sir, But you may put any thing in, any fighting thing.

_Sam._ It is sufficient, you may hear hereafter.

_La-writ._ I rest your servant Sir.

_Sam._ No more words Gentlemen But follow me, no more words as you love me, The Gentleman's a noble Gentleman. I shall do what I can, and then--

_Cli._ We thank you Sir. [_Ex._ Sam. _and_ Clients.

_Sam._ Not a word to disturb him, he's a Gentleman.

_La-writ._ No cause go o' my side? the judge cast all? And because I was honourably employed in action, And not appear'd, pronounce? 'tis very well, 'Tis well faith, 'tis well, Judge.

_Enter_ Cleremont.

_Cler._ Who have we here? My little furious Lawyer?

_La-writ._ I say 'tis well, But mark the end.

_Cler._ How he is metamorphos'd! Nothing of Lawyer left, not a bit of buckram, No solliciting face now, This is no simple conversion. Your servant Sir, and Friend.

_La-writ._ You come in time, Sir,

_Cler._ The happier man, to be at your command then.

_La-writ._ You may wonder to see me thus; but that's all one, Time shall declare; 'tis true I was a Lawyer, But I have mew'd that coat, I hate a Lawyer, I talk'd much in the Court, now I hate talking, I did you the office of a man.

_Cler._ I must confess it.

_La-w._ And budg'd not, no I budg'd not.

_Cler._ No, you did not.

_La-w._ There's it then, one good turn requires another.

_Cler._ Most willing Sir, I am ready at your service.

_La-w._ There, read, and understand, and then deliver it.

_Cler._ This is a Challenge, Sir,

_La-w._ 'Tis very like, Sir, I seldom now write Sonnets.

_Cler._ _O admirantis_, To Monsieur _Vertaign_, the President.

_La-w._ I chuse no Fool, Sir.

_Cler._ Why, he's no Sword-man, Sir.

_La-w._ Let him learn, let him learn, Time, that trains Chickens up, will teach him quickly.

_Cler._ Why, he's a Judge, an Old Man.

_La-w._ Never too Old To be a Gentleman; and he that is a Judge Can judge best what belongs to wounded honour. There are my griefs, he has cast away my causes, In which he has bowed my reputation. And therefore Judge, or no Judge.

_Cler._ 'Pray be rul'd Sir, This is the maddest thing--

_La-w._ You will not carry it.

_Cler._ I do not tell you so, but if you may be perswaded.

_La-w._ You know how you us'd me when I would not fight, Do you remember, Gentleman?

_Cler._ The Devil's in him.

_La-w._ I see it in your Eyes, that you dare do it, You have a carrying face, and you shall carry it.

_Cler._ The least is Banishment.

_La-w._ Be banish'd then; 'Tis a friends part, we'll meet in _Africa_, Or any part of the Earth.

_Cler._ Say he will not fight.

_La-w._ I know then what to say, take you no care, Sir,

_Cler._ Well, I will carry it, and deliver it, And to morrow morning meet you in the Louver, Till when, my service.

_La-w._ A Judge, or no Judge, no Judge. [_Exit_ La-writ.

_Cler._ This is the prettiest Rogue that e'r I read of, None to provoke to th' field, but the old President; What face shall I put on? if I come in earnest, I am sure to wear a pair of Bracelets; This may make some sport yet, I will deliver it, Here comes the President.

_Enter_ Vertaign, _with two Gentlemen_.

_Vert._ I shall find time, Gentlemen, To do your causes good, is not that _Cleremont_?

_1 Gent._ 'Tis he my Lord.

_Vert._ Why does he smile upon me? Am I become ridiculous? has your fortune, Sir, Upon my Son, made you contemn his Father? The glory of a Gentleman is fair bearing.

_Cler._ Mistake me not my Lord, you shall not find that, I come with no blown Spirit to abuse you, I know your place and honour due unto it, The reverence to your silver Age and Vertue.

_Vert._ Your face is merry still.

_Cler._ So is my business, And I beseech your honour mistake me not, I have brought you from a wild or rather Mad-man As mad a piece of--you were wont to love mirth In your young days, I have known your Honour woo it, This may be made no little one, 'tis a Challenge, Sir, Nay, start not, I beseech you, it means you no harm, Nor any Man of Honour, or Understanding, 'Tis to steal from your serious hours a little laughter; I am bold to bring it to your Lordship.

_Vert._ 'Tis to me indeed: Do they take me for a Sword-man at these years?

_Cler._ 'Tis only worth your Honours Mirth, that's all Sir, 'Thad been in me else a sawcy rudeness.

_Vert._ From one _La-writ_, a very punctual Challenge.

_Cler._ But if your Lordship mark it, no great matter.

_Vert._ I have known such a wrangling Advocate, Such a little figent thing; Oh I remember him, A notable talking Knave, now out upon him, Has challeng'd me downright, defied me mortally I do remember too, I cast his Causes.

_Cler._ Why, there's the quarrel, Sir, the mortal quarrel.

_Vert._ Why, what a Knave is this? as y'are a Gentleman, Is there no further purpose but meer mirth? What a bold Man of War! he invites me roundly.

_Cler._ If there should be, I were no Gentleman, Nor worthy of the honour of my Kindred. And though I am sure your Lordship hates my Person, Which Time may bring again into your favour, Yet for the manners--

_Vert._ I am satisfied, You see, Sir, I have out-liv'd those days of fighting, And therefore cannot do him the honour to beat him my self; But I have a Kinsman much of his ability, His Wit and Courage, for this call him Fool, One that will spit as senseless fire as this Fellow.

_Cler._ And such a man to undertake, my Lord?

_Vert._ Nay he's too forward; these two pitch Barrels together.

_Cler._ Upon my soul, no harm.

_Vert._ It makes me smile, Why, what a stinking smother will they utter! Yes, he shall undertake, Sir, as my Champion, Since you propound it mirth, I'll venture on it, And shall defend my cause, but as y'are honest Sport not with bloud.

_Cler._ Think not so basely, good Sir.

_Vert._ A Squire shall wait upon you from my Kinsman, To morrow morning make you sport at full, You want no Subject; but no wounds.

_Cler._ That's my care.

_Ver._ And so good day. [_Ex._ Vertaign, _and Gentlemen_.

_Cler._ Many unto your honour. This is a noble Fellow, of a sweet Spirit, Now must I think how to contrive this matter, For together they shall go.

_Enter_ Dinant.

_Din._ O _Cleremont_, I am glad I have found thee.

_Cler._ I can tell thee rare things.

_Din._ O, I can tell thee rarer, Dost thou love me?

_Cler._ Love thee?

_Din._ Dost thou love me dearly? Dar'st thou for my sake?

_Cler._ Any thing that's honest.

_Din._ Though it be dangerous?

_Cler._ Pox o' dangerous.

_Din._ Nay wondrous dangerous.

_Cler._ Wilt thou break my heart?

_Din._ Along with me then.

_Cler._ I must part to morrow.

_Din._ You shall, you shall, be faithful for this night, And thou hast made thy friend.

_Cler._ Away, and talk not. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Lamira, _and Nurse_.

_Lam._ O Nurse, welcome, where's _Dinant_?

_Nurse._ He's at my back. 'Tis the most liberal Gentleman, this Gold He gave me for my pains, nor can I blame you, If you yield up the fort.

_Lam._ How? yield it up?

_Nurse._ I know not, he that loves, and gives so largely, And a young Lord to boot, or I am cozen'd, May enter every where.

_Lam._ Thou'lt make me angry.

_Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont.

_Nur._ Why, if you are, I hope here's one will please you, Look on him with my Eyes, good luck go with you: Were I young for your sake--

_Din._ I thank thee, Nurse.

_Nur._ I would be tractable, and as I am--

_Lam._ Leave the room, So old, and so immodest! and be careful, Since whispers will 'wake sleeping jealousies, That none disturb my Lord. [_Exit Nurse._

_Cler._ Will you dispatch? Till you come to the matter be not rapt thus, Walk in, walk in, I am your scout for once, You owe me the like service.

_Din._ And will pay it.

_Lam._ As you respect our lives, speak not so loud.

_Cler._ Why, do it in dumb shew then, I am silenc'd.

_Lam._ Be not so hasty, Sir, the golden Apples Had a fell Dragon for their Guard, your pleasures Are to be attempted with _Herculean_ danger, Or never to be gotten.

_Din._ Speak the means.

_Lam._ Thus briefly, my Lord sleeps now, and alas, Each Night, he only sleeps.

_Cler._ Go, keep her stirring.

_Lam._ Now if he 'wake, as sometimes he does, He only stretches out his hand and feels, Whether I am a bed, which being assur'd of, He sleeps again; but should he miss me, Valour Could not defend our lives.

_Din._ What's to be done then?

_Lam._ Servants have servile faiths, nor have I any That I dare trust; on noble _Cleremont_ We safely may rely.

_Cler._ What man can do, Command and boldly.

_Lam._ Thus then in my place, You must lye with my Lord.

_Cler._ With an old man? Two Beards together, that's preposterous.

_Lam._ There is no other way, and though 'tis dangerous, He having servants within call, and arm'd too, Slaves fed to act all that his jealousie And rage commands them, yet a true friend should not Check at the hazard of a life.

_Cler._ I thank you, I love my friend, but know no reason why To hate my self; to be a kind of pander, You see I am willing, But to betray mine own throat you must pardon.

_Din._ Then I am lost, and all my hopes defeated, Were I to hazard ten times more for you, You should find, _Cleremont_--

_Cler._ You shall not outdo me, Fall what may fall, I'll do't.

_Din._ But for his Beard--

_Lam._ To cover that you shall have my night Linnen, And you dispos'd of, my _Dinant_ and I Will have some private conference.

_Enter_ Champernel, _privately_.

_Cler._ Private doing, Or I'll not venture.

_Lam._ That's as we agree. [_Exeunt._

_Enter Nurse, and_ Charlotte, _pass over the Stage with
Pillows, Night cloaths, and such things_.

_Cham._ What can this Woman do, preserving her honour? I have given her all the liberty that may be, I will not be far off though, nor I will not be jealous, Nor trust too much, I think she is vertuous, Yet when I hold her best, she's but a Woman, As full of frailty as of faith, a poor sleight Woman, And her best thoughts, but weak fortifications, There may be a Mine wrought: Well, let 'em work then, I shall meet with it, till the signs be monstrous, And stick upon my head, I will not believe it, [_Stands private._ She may be, and she may not, now to my observation.

_Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Lamira.

_Din._ Why do you make me stay so? if you love me--

_Lam._ You are too hot and violent.

_Din._ Why do you shift thus From one Chamber to another?

_Lam._ A little delay, Sir, Like fire, a little sprinkled o'r with water Makes the desires burn clear, and ten times hotter.

_Din._ Why do you speak so loud? I pray'e go in, Sweet Mistriss, I am mad, time steals away, And when we would enjoy--

_Lam._ Now fie, fie, Servant, Like sensual Beasts shall we enjoy our pleasures?

_Din._ 'Pray do not kiss me then.

_Lam._ Why, that I will, and you shall find anon, servant.

_Din._ Softly, for heavens sake, you know my friend's engag'd, A little now, now; will ye go in again?

_Lam._ Ha, ha, ha, ha.

_Din._ Why do you laugh so loud, Precious? Will you betray me; ha' my friends throat cut?

_Lam._ Come, come, I'll kiss thee again.

_Cham._ Will you so? you are liberal, If you do cozen me--

_Enter Nurse with Wine._

_Din._ What's this?

_Lam._ Wine, Wine, a draught or two.

_Din._ What does this Woman here?

_Lam._ She shall not hinder you.

_Din._ This might have been spar'd, 'Tis but delay and time lost; pray send her softly off.

_Lam._ Sit down, and mix your spirits with Wine, I will make you another _Hercules_.

_Din._ I dare not drink; Fie, what delays you make! I dare not, I shall be drunk presently, and do strange things then.

_Lam._ Not drink a cup with your Mistriss! O the pleasure.

_Din._ Lady, why this? [_Musick._

_Lam._ We must have mirth to our Wine, Man.

_Din._ Pl---- o' the Musick.

_Champ._ God-a-mercy Wench, If thou dost cuckold me I shall forgive thee.

_Din._ The house will all rise now, this will disturb all. Did you do this?

_Lam._ Peace, and sit quiet, fool, You love me, come, sit down and drink.

_Enter_ Cleremont _above_.

_Cler._ What a Devil ail you? How cold I sweat! a hogs pox stop your pipes, [_Musick._ The thing will 'wake; now, now, methinks I find His Sword just gliding through my throat. What's that? A vengeance choak your pipes. Are you there, Lady? Stop, stop those Rascals; do you bring me hither To be cut into minced meat? why _Dinant_?

_Din._ I cannot do withal; I have spoke, and spoke; I am betray'd and lost too.

_Cler._ Do you hear me? do you understand me? 'Plague dam your Whistles. [_Musick ends._

_Lam._ 'Twas but an over-sight, they have done, lye down.

_Cler._ Would you had done too, You know not In what a misery and fear I lye. You have a Lady in your arms.

_Din._ I would have-- [_The Recorders again._

_Champ._ I'll watch you Goodman Wou'd have.

_Cler._ Remove for Heavens sake, And fall to that you come for.

_Lam._ Lie you down, 'Tis but an hours endurance now.

_Cler._ I dare not, softly sweet Lady ----heart?

_Lam._ 'Tis nothing but your fear, he sleeps still soundly, Lie gently down.

_Cler._ 'Pray make an end.

_Din._ Come, Madam.

_Lam._ These Chambers are too near. [_Ex._ Din. Lam.

_Cham._ I shall be nearer; Well, go thy wayes, I'le trust thee through the world, Deal how thou wilt: that that I never feel, I'le never fear. Yet by the honour of a Souldier, I hold thee truly noble: How these things will look, And how their blood will curdle! Play on Children, You shall have pap anon. O thou grand Fool, That thou knew'st but thy fortune-- [_Musick done._

_Cler._ Peace, good Madam, Stop her mouth, _Dinant_, it sleeps yet, 'pray be wary, Dispatch, I cannot endure this misery, I can hear nothing more; I'll say my prayers, And down again-- [_Whistle within._ A thousand Alarms fall upon my quarters, Heaven send me off; when I lye keeping Courses. Pl---- o' your fumbling, _Dinant_; how I shake! 'Tis still again: would I were in the _Indies_. [_Exit_ Cler.

_Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Lamira: _a light within_.

_Din._ Why do you use me thus? thus poorly? basely? Work me into a hope, and then destroy me? Why did you send for me? this new way train me?

_Lam._ Mad-man, and fool, and false man, now I'll shew thee.

_Din._ 'Pray put your light out.

_Lam._ Nay I'll hold it thus, That all chaste Eyes may see thy lust, and scorn it. Tell me but this when you first doted on me, And made suit to enjoy me as your Wife, Did you not hold me honest?

_Din._ Yes, most vertuous.

_Lam._ And did not that appear the only lustre That made me worth your love and admiration?

_Din._ I must confess--

_Lam._ Why would you deal so basely? So like a thief, a Villain?

_Din._ Peace, good Madam.

_Lam._ I'll speak aloud too; thus maliciously, Thus breaking all the Rules of honesty, Of honour and of truth, for which I lov'd you, For which I call'd you servant, and admir'd you; To steal that Jewel purchas'd by another, Piously set in Wedlock, even that Jewel, Because it had no flaw, you held unvaluable: Can he that has lov'd good, dote on the Devil? For he that seeks a Whore, seeks but his Agent; Or am I of so wild and low a blood? So nurs'd in infamies?

_Din._ I do not think so, And I repent.

_Lam._ That will not serve your turn, Sir.

_Din._ It was your treaty drew me on.

_Lam._ But it was your villany Made you pursue it; I drew you but to try How much a man, and nobly thou durst stand, How well you had deserv'd the name of vertuous; But you like a wild torrent, mix'd with all Beastly and base affections came floating on, Swelling your poyson'd billows--

_Din._ Will you betray me?

_Lam._ To all the miseries a vext Woman may.

_Din._ Let me but out, Give me but room to toss my Sword about me, And I will tell you y'are a treacherous woman, O that I had but words!

_Lam._ They will not serve you.

_Din._ But two-edg'd words to cut thee; a Lady traytor? Perish by a proud Puppet? I did you too much honour, To tender you my love, too much respected you To think you worthy of my worst embraces. Go take your Groom, and let him dally with you, Your greasie Groom; I scorn to imp your lame stock, You are not fair, nor handsome, I lyed loudly, This tongue abus'd you when it spoke you beauteous.

_Lam._ 'Tis very well, 'tis brave.

_Din._ Put out your light, Your lascivious eyes are flames enough For Fools to find you out; a Lady Plotter! Must I begin your sacrifice of mischief? I and my friend, the first-fruits of that bloud, You and your honourable Husband aim at? Crooked and wretched you are both.

_Lam._ To you, Sir, Yet to the Eye of Justice straight as Truth.

_Din._ Is this a womans love? a womans mercy? Do you profess this seriously? do you laugh at me?

_Lam._ Ha, ha.

_Din._ Pl---- light upon your scorns, upon your flatteries, Upon your tempting faces, all destructions; A bedrid winter hang upon your cheeks, And blast, blast, blast those buds of Pride that paint you; Death in your eyes to fright men from these dangers: Raise up your trophy, _Cleremont_.

_Cler._ What a vengeance ail you?

_Din._ What dismal noise! is there no honour in you? _Cleremont_, we are betrayed, betrayed, sold by a woman; Deal bravely for thy self.

_Cler._ This comes of rutting; Are we made stales to one another?

_Din._ Yes, we are undone, lost.

_Cler._ You shall pay for't grey-beard. Up, up, you sleep your last else. {_Lights above, two Servants {and_ Anabel. _1 Serv._ No, not yet, Sir, Lady, look up, would you have wrong'd this Beauty? Wake so tender a Virgin with rough terms? You wear a Sword, we must entreat you leave it.

_2 Serv._ Fye Sir, so sweet a Lady?

_Cler._ Was this my bed-fellow, pray give me leave to look, I am not mad yet, I may be by and by. Did this lye by me? Did I fear this? is this a Cause to shake at? Away with me for shame, I am a Rascal.

_Enter_ Champernel, Beaupre, Verdone, Lamira, Anabel,
Cleremont, _and two Servants_.

_Din._ I am amaz'd too.

_Beaup._ We'll recover you.

_Verd._ You walk like _Robin-good-fellow_ all the house over, And every man afraid of you.

_Din._ 'Tis well, Lady; The honour of this deed will be your own, The world shall know your bounty.

_Beaup._ What shall we do with 'em?

_Cler._ Geld me, For 'tis not fit I should be a man again, I am an Ass, a Dog.

_Lam._ Take your revenges, You know my Husbands wrongs and your own losses.

_Anab._ A brave man, an admirable brave man; Well, well, I would not be so tryed again; A very handsome proper Gentleman.

_Cler._ Will you let me lye by her but one hour more, And then hang me?

_Din._ We wait your malice, put your swords home bravely, You have reason to seek bloud.

_Lam._ Not as you are noble.

_Cham._ Hands off, and give them liberty, only disarm 'em.

_Beaup._ We have done that already.

_Cham._ You are welcome, Gentlemen, I am glad my house has any pleasure for you, I keep a couple of Ladies here, they say fair, And you are young and handsome, Gentlemen; Have you any more mind to Wenches?

_Cler._ To be abus'd too? Lady, you might have help'd this.

_Ana._ Sir now 'tis past, but 't may be I may stand Your friend hereafter, in a greater matter.

_Cler._ Never whilst you live.

_Ana._ You cannot tell--now, Sir, a parting hand.

_Cler._ Down and Roses: Well I may live to see you again. A dull Rogue, No revelation in thee.

_Lam._ Were you well frighted? Were your fitts from the heart, of all colds and colours? That's all your punishment.

_Cler._ It might have been all yours, Had not a block-head undertaken it.

_Cham._ Your swords you must leave to these Gentlemen.

_Verd._ And now, when you dare fight, We are on even Ice again.

_Din._ 'Tis well: To be a Mistris, is to be a monster, And so I leave your house, and you for ever.

_Lam._ Leave your wild lusts, and then you are a master.

_Cham._ You may depart too.

_Cler._ I had rather stay here.

_Cham._ Faith we shall fright you worse.

_Cler._ Not in that manner, There's five hundred Crowns, fright me but so again.

_Din._ Come _Cleremont_, this is the hour of fool.

_Cler._ Wiser the next shall be or we'll to School. [_Exeunt._

_Champ._ How coolly these hot gallants are departed! Faith Cousin, 'twas unconscionably done, To lye so still, and so long.

_Anab._ 'Twas your pleasure, If 'twere a fault, I may hereafter mend.

_Champ._ O my best Wife, Take now what course thou wilt, and lead what life.

_Lam._ The more trust you commit, the more care still, Goodness and vertue shall attend my will.

_Cham._ Let's laugh this night out now, and count our gains. We have our honours home, and they their pains. [_Exeunt omnes._

_Actus Quartus. Scena Prima._

_Enter_ Cleremont, Dinant.

_Din._ It holds, they will go thither.

_Cler._ To their Summer-house?

_Din._ Thither i'th' evening, and which is the most infliction, Only to insult upon our miseries.

_Cler._ Are you provided?

_Din._ Yes, yes.

_Cler._ Throughly?

_Din._ Throughly.

_Cler._ Basta, enough, I have your mind, I will not fail you.

_Din._ At such an hour.

_Cler._ Have I a memory? A Cause, and Will to do? thou art so sullen--

_Din._ And shall be, till I have a fair reparation.

_Cler._ I have more reason, for I scaped a fortune, Which if I come so near again: I say nothing, But if I sweat not in another fashion-- O, a delicate Wench.

_Din._ 'Tis certain a most handsome one.

_Cler._ And me thought the thing was angry with it self too It lay so long conceal'd, but I must part with you, I have a scene of mirth, to drive this from my heart, And my hour is come.

_Din._ Miss not your time.

_Cler._ I dare not. [_Exeunt severally._

_Enter_ Sampson, _and a Gentleman_.

_Gent._ I presume, Sir, you now need no instruction, But fairly know, what belongs to a Gentleman; You bear your Uncles cause.

_Sam._ Do not disturb me, I understand my cause, and the right carriage.

_Gent._ Be not too bloody.

_Sam._ As I find my enemy; if his sword bite, If it bite, Sir, you must pardon me.

_Gent._ No doubt he is valiant, He durst not undertake else,

_Sam._ He's most welcome, As he is most valiant, he were no man for me else.

_Gent._ But say he should relent.

_Sam._ He dies relenting, I cannot help it, he must di[e] relenting, If he pray, praying, _ipso facto_, praying, Your honourable way admits no prayer, And if he fight, he falls, there's his _quietus_.

_Gent._ Y'are nobly punctual, let's retire and meet 'em, But still, I say, have mercy.

_Samp._ I say, honour. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Champernel, Lamira, Anabel, Beaupre, Verdone,
Charlote _and a Servant_.

_Lam._ Will not you go sweet-heart?

_Champ._ Go? I'le fly with thee. I stay behind?

_Lam._ My Father will be there too, And all our best friends.

_Beau._ And if we be not merry, We have hard luck, Lady.

_Verd._ Faith let's have a kind of play.

_Cham._ What shall it be?

_Verd._ The story of _Dinant_.

_Lam._ With the merry conceits of _Cleremont_, His Fits and Feavers.

_Ana._ But I'le lie still no more.

_Lam._ That, as you make the Play, 'twill be rare sport, And how 'twill vex my gallants, when they hear it! Have you given order for the Coach?

_Charl._ Yes, Madam.

_Cham._ My easie Nag, and padd.

_Serv._ 'Tis making ready.

_Champ._ Where are your Horses?

_Beau._ Ready at an hour, Sir: we'll not be last.

_Cham._ Fie, what a night shall we have! A roaring, merry night.

_Lam._ We'll flie at all, Sir.

_Cham._ I'le flie at thee too, finely, and so ruffle thee, I'le try your Art upon a Country pallet.

_Lam._ Brag not too much, for fear I should expect it, Then if you fail--

_Cham._ Thou saiest too true, we all talk. But let's in, and prepare, and after dinner Begin our mirthful pilgrimage.

_Lam._ He that's sad, A crab-face'd Mistris cleave to him for this year. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Cleremont, _and_ La-writ.

_La-writ._ Since it cannot be the Judge--

_Cler._ 'Tis a great deal better.

_La-writ._ You are sure, he is his kinsman? a Gentleman?

_Cler._ As arrant a Gentleman, and a brave fellow, And so near to his blood--

_La-writ._ It shall suffice, I'le set him further off, I'le give a remove Shall quit his kindred, I'le lopp him.

_Cl[e]r._ Will ye kill him?

_La-w._ And there were no more Cousins in the world I kill him, I do mean, Sir, to kill all my Lords kindred. For every cause a Cousin.

_Cler._ How if he have no more Cousins?

_La-writ._ The next a kin then to his Lordships favour; The man he smiles upon.

_Cler._ Why this is vengeance, horrid, and dire.

_La-writ._ I love a dire revenge: Give me the man that will all others kill, And last himself,

_Cler._ You stole that resolution.

_La-writ._ I had it in a Play, but that's all one, I wou'd see it done.

_Cler._ Come, you must be more merciful.

_La-writ._ To no Lords Cousins in the world, I hate 'em; A Lords Cousin to me is a kind of Cockatrice, If I see him first, he dies. A strange Antipathy.

_Cler._ What think you of their Nieces?

_La-writ._ If I like 'em, They may live, and multiply; 'tis a cold morning.

_Cler._ 'Tis sharp indeed; you have broke your fast?

_La-writ._ No verily.

_Cler._ Your valour would have ask'd a good foundation.

_La-writ._ Hang him, I'le kill him fasting.

_Enter_ Sampson _and the Gent_.

_Cler._ Here they come, Bear your self in your language, smooth and gently, When your swords argue.

_La-writ._ 'Pray Sir, spare your precepts.

_Gent._ I have brought you, Sir--

_La-writ._ 'Tis very well, no words, You are welcome, Sir.

_Sam._ I thank you, Sir, few words.

_La-writ._ I'le kill you for your Uncles sake.

_Sam._ I love you, I'le cut your throat for your own sake.

_La-writ._ I esteem of you.

_Cler._ Let's render 'em honest, and fair, Gentlemen, Search my friend, I'le search yours.

_Gent._ That's quickly done.

_Cler._ You come with no Spells, nor Witchcrafts?

_Sam._ I come fairly to kill him honestly.

_La-writ._ Hang Spells, and Witchcrafts, I come to kill my Lords Nephew like a Gentleman, And so I kiss his hand.

_Gent._ This Doublet is too stiff.

_La-writ._ Off with't, I hate it, And all such fortifications, feel my skin, If that be stiff, flea that off too.

_Gent._ 'Tis no soft one.

_La-writ._ Off with't, I say: I'le fight with him like a flea'd Cat.

_Gent._ You are well, you are well.

_Cler._ You must uncase too.

_Sam._ Yes, Sir. But tell me this, why should I mix mine honour With a fellow, that has ne're a lace in's shirt?

_Gent._ That's a main point, my friend has two.

_Cler._ That's true, Sir.

_La-w._ Base and degenerate Cousin, dost not thou know An old, and tatter'd colours, to the enemy, Is of more honour, and shews more ominous? This shirt, five times, victorious I have fought under, And cut through squadrons of your curious cut-works, As I will do through thine, shake, and be satisfied.

_Cler._ This is unanswerable.

_Sam._ But may I fight with a foul shirt?

_Gent._ Most certain, so it be a fighting shirt, Let it be ne're so foul, or lowsie, _Cæsar_ wore such a one.

_Sam._ Saint _Denis_ then: I accept your shirt.

_Cler._ Not so forward, first you must talk, 'Tis a main point, of the French method, Talk civilly, and make your cause Authentick.

_Gent._ No weapon must be near you, nor no anger.

_Cler._ When you have done, then stir your resolutions, Take to your Weapons bravely.

_La-writ._ 'Tis too cold; This for a Summer fight.

_Cler._ Not for a world you should transgress the rules.

_Sam._ 'Tis pievish weather, I had rather fight without.

_Gent._ An 'twere in a River.

_Cler._ Where both stood up to th' chins.

_La-writ._ Then let's talk quickly, Pl---- o' this circumstance.

_Cler._ Are the Horses come yet?

_Gent._ Yes certain: give your swords to us, now civilly.

_Cler._ We'll stand a while off; take the things, and leave 'em, You know when, and let the children play: This is a dainty time of year for puppies, Would the old Lord were here.

_Gent._ He would dye with laughter.

_Cler._ I am sorry I have no time to see this game out, Away, away.

_Gent._ Here's like to be a hot fight, Call when y'are fit. [_Ex._ Cler. _and Gent._

_La-writ._ Why look you Sir, you seem to be a Gentleman, And you come in honour of your Uncle, boh, boh, 'tis very cold; Your Uncle has offer'd me some few affronts, Past flesh and blood to bear: boh, boh, wondrous cold.

_Sam._ My Lord, mine Uncle, is an honourable man, And what he offers, boh, boh, cold indeed, Having made choice of me, an unworthy kinsman, Yet take me with you: boh, boh, pestilence cold, Not altogether.

_La-writ._ Boh, boh, I say altogether.

_Sam._ You say you know not what then? boh, boh, Sir.

_La-writ._ Sir me with your sword in your hand; You have a scurvy Uncle, you have a most scurvy cause, And you are--boh, boh.

_Sam._ Boh, boh, what?

_La-writ._ A shitten scurvy Cousin.

_Samp._ Our Swords; our Swords; Thou art a Dog, and like a Dog, our Swords.

_La-w._ Our weapons Gentlemen: ha? where's your second?

_Sam._ Where's yours?

_La-writ._ So ho; our weapons.

_Sam._ Wa, ha, ho, our weapons; Our Doublets and our weapons, I am dead.

_La-w._ First, second, third, a pl---- be wi' you Gentlemen.

_Sam._ Are these the rules of honour? I am starv'd.

_La-w._ They are gone, and we are here; what shall we do?

_Sam._ O for a couple of Faggots.

_La-w._ Hang a couple of Faggots. Dar'st thou take a killing cold with me?

_Sam._ I have it already.

_La-w._ Rogues, Thieves, boh, boh, run away with our Doublets? To fight at Buffets now, 'twere such a May-game.

_Sam._ There were no honour in't, pl---- on't, 'tis scurvy.

_La-w._ Or to revenge my wrongs at fisty-cuffes.

_Sam._ My Lord, mine Uncles cause, depend on Boxes?

_La-w._ Let's go in quest, if we ever recover 'em.

_Sam._ I, come, our Colds together, and our Doublets.

_La-w._ Give me thy hand; thou art a valiant Gentleman, I say if ever we recover 'em--

_Sam._ Let's get into a house and warm our hearts.

_La-w._ There's ne're a house within this mile, beat me, Kick me and beat me as I go, and I'le beat thee too, To keep us warm; if ever we recover 'em-- Kick hard, I am frozen: so, so, now I feel it.

_Sam._ I am dull yet.

_La-w._ I'le warm thee, I'le warm thee--Gentlemen? Rogues, Thieves, Thieves: run now I'le follow thee. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Vertaign, Champernel, Beaupre, Verdone, Lamira,
Annabel, Charlote, _Nurse_.

_Verta._ Use legs, and have legs.

_Cham._ You that have legs say so, I put my one to too much stress.

_Verdo._ Your Horse, Sir, Will meet you within half a mile.

_Lam._ I like The walk so well, I should not miss my Coach, Though it were further. _Annabel_ thou art sad: What ails my Niece?

_Beau._ She's still musing, Sister, How quietly her late bed-fellow lay by her.

_Nurse._ Old as I am, he would have startled me, Nor can you blame her.

_Char._ Had I ta'ne her place, I know not, but I fear, I should ha' shreek'd, Though he had never offer'd--

_Ana._ Out upon thee, Thou wouldst have taught him.

_Char._ I think, with your pardon, That you wish now you had.

_Ana._ I am glad I yield you [_Cornet._ Such ample scope of mirth. [_Musick within._

_Verta._ Nay, be not angry, There's no ill meant: ha? Musick, and choice Musick?

_Cham._ 'Tis near us in the Grove; what courteous bounty Bestows it on us? my dancing days are done; Yet I would thank the giver, did I know him.

_Verdo._ 'Tis questionless, some one of your own Village, That hearing of your purpos'd journey thither, Prepares it for your entertainment, and The honour of my Lady.

_Lam._ I think rather, Some of your Lordships Clients.

_Beaup._ What say you Cousin, If they should prove your Suitors?

_Verd._ That's most likely.

_Nurse._ I say if you are noble, be't who will, Go presently and thank 'em: I can jump yet, Or tread a measure.

_Lam._ Like a Millers Mare.

_Nurs._ I warrant you well enough to serve the Country, I'le make one, and lead the way. [_Exit._

_Charl._ Do you note, How zealous the old Crone is?

_Lam._ And you titter As eagerly as she: come sweet, we'll follow, No ill can be intended. [_Musick ends._

_Cham._ I ne're feared yet. [_Exeunt._

SONG in the Wood.

_This way, this way come and hear,
You that hold these pleasures dear,
Fill your ears with our sweet sound,
Whilst we melt the frozen ground:
This way come, make haste oh fair,
Let your clear eyes gild the Air;
Come and bless us with your sight,
This way, this way, seek delight._

_Enter company of Gentlemen, like Ruffians._

_1 Gent._ They are ours, but draw them on a little further From the foot-path into the neighbouring thicket, And we may do't, as safe as in a Castle.

_2 Gent._ They follow still; the President _Vertaigne_ Comes on a pace, and _Champernel_ limps after; The Women, as if they had wings, and walk't Upon the Air, fly to us.

_1 Gent._ They are welcome, We'll make 'em sport; make a stand here, all know How we are to proceed.

_2 Gent._ We are instructed. [_Still Musick within._

_1 Gent._ One strain or two more. [_Gent. off._

_Enter_ Vertaigne, Champernel, Beaupre, Verdone, Lamira,
Anabel, _Nurse_, Charlote.

Excellent, they are come.

_Nurse._ We cannot miss, in such a business, yet Mine ear ne'r fail'd me. [_Musick for the Dance._

_Charl._ Would we were at it once, I do not walk, but Dance.

_1 Gent._ You shall have dancing. Begin, and when I give the word--

_2 Gent._ No more: We are instructed. [_Dance._

_Beaupre._ But win us fairly--

_1 Gent._ O Sir, we do not come to try your valour, But to possess you, yet we use you kindly In that, like English Thieves, we kill you not, But are contented with the spoil.

_Verta._ Oh Heaven! How hath mine age deserv'd this?

_Cham._ Hell confound it, This comes of walking; had I kept my legs, Or my good Horse, my Armour on, My Staff in my rest, and this good Sword too, friend, How I would break and scatter these.

_All Gent._ Ha, ha, ha.

_Cham._ Do you scorn me Rogues?

_Nurs._ Nay, Gentlemen, kind Gentlemen, Or honest keepers of these woods, but hear me, Be not so rough; if you are taken with My beauty, as it hath been worth the seeking, Some one or two of you try me in private, You shall not find me squeamish.

_Charl._ Do not kill me, And do your worst, I'le suffer.

_Lam._ Peace vile creatures.

_Vert._ Do you know me, or my place, that you presume not To touch my person?

_1 Gent._ If you are well, rest so, Provoke not angry Wasps.

_Verta._ You are Wasps indeed, Never created to yield Wax or Honey, But for your Countries torment; yet if you are men, (As you seem such in shape) if true born French-men, However want compels you to these courses, Rest satisfied with what you can take from us, (These Ladies honours, and our liberties safe) We freely give it.

_1 Gent._ You give but our own.

_Verta._ Look on these grey hairs, as you would be old, Their tears, as you would have yours to find mercy When Justice shall o'retake you.

_Cham._ Look on me, Look on me Rascals, and learn of me too, That have been in some part of your profession, Before that most of you ere suck'd, I know it, I have rode hard, and late too.

_Verta._ Take heed, Sir.

_Cham._ Then use me like a Brother of the Trade, For I have been at Sea, as you on land are, Restore my Matrimony undefil'd, Wrong not my Neece, and for our gold or silver, If I pursue you, hang me.

_Nurs._ 'Tis well offer'd, And as I said, sweet Gentlemen, with sowre faces, If you are high, and want some sport, or so, (As living without action here, you may do) Forbear their tender grissels, they are meat Will wash away, there is no substance in it, We that are expert in the game, and tough too, Will hold you play.

_Enter_ Dinant _and_ Cleremont.

_1 Gent._ This Hen longs to be troden.

_Din._ Lackey, my Horse.

_Cler._ This way, I heard the cries Of distress'd Women.

_2 Gent._ Stand upon your guard.

_Din._ Who's here? my witty, scornful Lady-plot In the hands of Ruffians?

_Cler._ And my fine cold virgin, That was insensible of man, and woman?

_Din._ Justice too, Without a sword to guard it self?

_Cler._ And valour with its hands bound?

_Din._ And the great Souldier dull? Why this is strange.

_Lam._ _Dinant_ as thou art noble--

_Ana._ As thou art valiant _Cleremont_--

_Lam._ As ever I appear'd lovely--

_Ana._ As you ever hope For what I would give gladly--

_Cler._ Pretty conjurations.

_Lam._ All injuries a little laid behind you.

_Ana._ Shew your selves men, and help us.

_Din._ Though your many And gross abuses of me should more move me To triumph in your miseries than relieve you,-- Yet that hereafter you may know that I The scorn'd and despis'd _Dinant_, know what does Belong to honour, thus--

_Cler._ I will say little, [_Fight._ Speak thou for me.

_Cham._ 'Tis bravely fought.

_Verta._ Brave tempers, To do thus for their enemies.

_Cham._ They are lost yet.

_1 Gent._ You that would rescue others, shall now feel What they were born to.

_2 Gent._ Hurry them away. [_Ex. Manent_ Vert. _and_ Champernel.

_Cham._ That I could follow them.

_Verta._ I only can lament my fortune, and desire of heaven A little life for my revenge.

_Cham._ The Provost Shall fire the woods, but I will find 'em out, No cave, no rock, nor hell shall keep them from My searching vengeance.

_Enter_ La-writ, _and_ Sampson.

_La-writ._ O cold! O fearfull cold! plague of all seconds.

_Samp._ O for a pint of burnt wine, or a sip Of _aqua-fortis_.

_Cham._ The rogues have met with these two Upon my life and rob'd 'em.

_La-writ._ As you are honourable Gentlemen, Impart unto a couple of cold combatants.

_Sam._ My Lord, mine uncle as I live.

_La-writ._ Pox take him. How that word has warm'd my mouth!

_Verta._ Why how now Cousin? Why, why? and where man, have you been? at a Poulters That you are cas'd thus like a rabbet? I could laugh now, And I shall laugh, for all I have lost my Children, Laugh monstrously.

_Cham._ What are they?

_Verta._ Give me leave Sir, Laugh more and more, never leave laughing.

_Cham._ Why Sir?

_Verta._ Why 'tis such a thing I smell it Sir, I smell it, Such a ridiculous thing,--

_La-writ._ Do you laugh at me my Lord? I am very cold, but that should not be laught at.

_Cham._ What art thou?

_La-writ._ What art thou?

_Sam._ If he had his doublet.-- And his sword by his side, as a Gentleman ought to have.

_Verta._ Peace Monsieur _Sampson_.

_Cham._ Come hither little Gentleman.

_La-writ._ Base is the slave commanded: come to me.

_Verta._ This is the little advocate.

_Cham._ What advocate?

_Verta._ The little advocate that sent me a challenge, I told you that my Nephew undertook it, And what 'twas like to prove: now you see the issue.

_Cham._ Is this the little Lawyer?

_La-writ._ You have a sword Sir, And I have none, you have a doublet too That keeps you warm, and makes you merry.

_Sam._ If your Lordship knew The nature, and the nobleness of the Gentleman, Though he shew slight here, and at what gusts of danger His manhood has arrived, But that Mens fates are foolish, And often headlong overrun their fortunes.

_La-writ._ That little Lawyer would so prick his ears up, And bite your honour by the nose.

_Cham._ Say you so Sir?

_La-writ._ So niggle about your grave shins Lord _Verta[ig]ne_ too.

_Sam._ No more sweet Gentleman, no more of that Sir.

_La-writ._ I will have more, I must have more.

_Verta._ Out with it.

_Sam._ Nay he is as brave a fellow.--

_Cham._ Have I caught you? [_Strikes him down._

_Verta._ Do not kill him, do not kill him.

_Cham._ No, no, no, I will not. Do you peep again? Down down proud heart.

_Sam._ O valour, Look up brave friend, I have no means to rescue thee, My Kingdom for a sword.

_Cham._ I'le sword you presently, I'le claw your skin coat too.

_Verta._ Away good _Sampson_, You go to grass else instantly.

_Sam._ But do not murder my brave friend.

_Verta._ Not one word.

_Cham._ If you do sirra--

_Sam._ Must I goe off dishonour'd? Adversity tries valour, so I leave thee. [_Exit_.

_Cham._ Are you a Lawyer Sir?

_La-writ._ I was, I was Sir.

_Cham._ Nay never look, your Lawyers pate is broken, And your litigious blood about your ears sirra, Why do you fight and snarle?

_La-writ._ I was possest.

_Cham._ I'le dispossess you.

_Verta._ Ha, ha, ha.

_La-writ._ _Et tu Brute?_

_Verta._ Beat him no more.

_Cham._ Alas Sir I must beat him, Beat him into his business again, he will be lost else.

_Verta._ Then take your way.

_Cham._ Ly still, and doe not struggle.

_La-writ._ I am patient, I never saw my blood before, it jades me, I have no more heart now than a goose.

_Cham._ Why sirra, why do you leave your trade, your trade of living, And send your challenges like thunderbolts, To men of honour'd place?

_La-writ._ I understand Sir, I never understood before your beating.

_Cham._ Does this work on you?

_La-writ._ Yes.

_Cham._ Do you thank me for't?

_La-writ._ As well as a beaten man can.

_Cham._ And do you promise me, To fall close to your trade again? leave brawling?