Beaup. We'l venture on him.
Cham. Out of my doors I charge thee, see me no more.
Lami. Your Nephew?
Cham. I disclaim him,
He has no part in me, nor in my blood,
My Brother that kept fortune bound, and left
Conquest hereditary to his Issue
Could not beget a coward.
Verd. I fought, Sir,
Like a good fellow, and a Souldier too,
But men are men, and cannot make their fates:
Ascribe you to my Father what you please,
I am born to suffer.
Cham. All disgraces wretch.
Lam. Good Sir be patient.
Cham. Was there no tree,
(For to fall by a noble enemies sword,
A Coward is unworthy) nor no River,
To force thy life out backward or to drown it,
But that thou must survive thy i[n]famie?
And kill me with the sight of one I hate,
And gladly would forget?
Beaup. Sir, his misfortune
Deserves not this reproof.
Cham. In your opinion,
'Tis fit you two should be of one belief,
You are indeed fine gallants, and fight bravely
I'th' City with your tongues, but in the field
Have neither spirit to dare nor power to do,
Your swords are all lead there.
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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Cler. Private doing,
Or I'll not venture.
Lam. That's as we agree. [Exeunt.

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.

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—

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.

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.

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.