_Bor._ Pray be not so distrustfull. _Put._ There are waies yet, And honest waies; we are not brought up Statues. _Anc._ If your Lordship Have any silk stockings, that have holes i'th' heels, Or ever an honourable Cassock that wants buttons, I could have cur'd such maladies: your Lordships custome And my good Ladies, if the bones want setting In her old bodies-- _Bor._ This is disobedience. _Anc._ Eight pence a day, and hard Eggs. _Put._ Troop off Gentlemen, Some Coin we have, whilst this lasts, or our credits, We'l never sell our Generals worth for six-pence. Ye are beholding to us. _Anc._ Fare ye well Sir, And buy a pipe with that: do ye see this skarf Sir? By this hand I'le cry Brooms in't, birchen Brooms Sir, Before I eat one bit from your benevolence. Now to our old occupations again. By your leave Lord. [_Exeunt._ _Bor._ You will bite when ye are sharper; take up the mony. This love I must remove, this fondness to him, This tenderness of heart; I have lost my way else. There is no sending man, they will not take it, They are yet too full of pillage, They'l dance for't ere't be long: Come, bring it after. _Enter_ Duke. _Duke._ How now, refus'd their mony? _Bor._ Very bravely, And stand upon such terms 'tis terrible. _Duke._ Where's _Archas_? _Bor._ He's retir'd Sir, to his house, According to your pleasure, full of dutie To outward shew: but what within-- _Duke._ Refuse it? _Bor._ Most confidently: 'tis not your revenues Can feed the[m] Sir, and yet they have found a General That knows no ebbe of bountie: there they eat Sir, And loath your invitations. _Duke._ 'Tis not possible, He's poor as they. _Bor._ You'l find it otherwise. Pray make your journey thither presently, And as ye goe I'le open ye a wonder. Good Sir this morning. _Duke._ Follow me, I'le doe it. [_Exeunt._ SCENA II. _Enter_ Olympia, Alinda, Burris, _and Gentlewomen_. _Olym._ But do you think my Brother loves her? _Bur._ Certain Madam, He speaks much of her, and sometimes with wonder, Oft wishes she were nobler born. _Olym._ Do you think him honest? _Bur._ Your Grace is nearer to his heart, than I am, Upon my life I hold him so. _Olym._ 'Tis a poor wench, I would not have her wrong'd: methinks my Brother-- But I must not give rules to his affections; Yet if he weigh her worth-- _Bur._ You need not fear Madam. _Olym._ I hope I shall not: Lord _Burris_ I love her well; I know not, there is something Makes me bestow more than a care upon her: I do not like that ring from him to her; I mean to women of her way, such tokens Rather appear as baits, than royal bounties: I would not have it so.