_Du._ No, nor do not Out of a baseness leave me: what is danger, More than the weakness of our apprehensions? A poor cold part o'th' bloud? who takes it hold of? Cowards, and wicked livers: valiant minds Were made the Masters of it: and as hearty Sea-men In desperate storms, stem with a little Rudder The tumbling ruines of the Ocean: So with their cause and swords do they do dangers. Say we were sure to dye all in this venture, As I am confident against it: is there any Amongst us of so fat a sense, so pamper'd, Would chuse luxuriously to lye a bed, And purge away his spirit, send his soul out In Sugar-sops, and Syrups? Give me dying As dying ought to be, upon mine enemy, Parting with man-kind, by a man that's manly: Let 'em be all the world, and bring along Cain's envy with 'em, I will on. _2 Gent._ You may Sir, But with what safety? _1 Gent._ Since 'tis come to dying, You shall perceive Sir, here be those amongst us Can dye as decently as other men, And with as little ceremony: on brave Sir. _Duke._ That's spoken heartily. _1 Gent._ And he that flinches, May he dye lowzie in a ditch. _Duke._ No more dying, There's no such danger in it: What's a clock? _3 Gent._ Somewhat above your hour. _Duke._ Away then quickly, Make no noise, and no tr[o]uble will attend us. [_Exeunt._ SCENE XI. _Enter_ Frederick, _and_ Peter, (_with a candle_.) _Fred._ Give me the candle: so, go you out that way. _Peter._ What have we now to do? _Fred._ And o' your life Sirrah, Let none come near the door without my knowledge, No not my Landlady, nor my friend. _Peter._ 'Tis done Sir. _Fred._ Nor any serious business that concerns me. _Peter._ Is the wind there again? _Fred._ Be gone. _Peter._ I am Sir. [_Exit._ _Enter_ Constantia. _Fre._ Now enter without fear.--And noble Lady That safety and civility ye wish'd for Shall truly here attend you: no rude tongue Nor rough behaviour knows this place, no wishes Beyond the moderation of a man, Dare enter here; your own desires and Innocence, Joyn'd to my vow'd obedience, shall protect you, Were dangers more than doubts. _Const._ Ye are truly noble, And worth a womans trust: let it become me, (I do beseech you, Sir) for all your kindness, To render with my thanks, this worthless trifle; I may be longer troublesome. _Fred._ Fair offices Are still their own rewards: Heav'n bless me Lady From selling civil courtesies: may it please ye, If ye will force a favour to oblige me, Draw but that cloud aside, to satisfie me For what good Angel I am engag'd. _Const._ It shall be, For I am truly confident ye are honest: The Piece is scarce worth looking on.