_Fred._ That way _Fabritio_. [_Exit_ Fabritio. _Enter_ Jacomo. [Sidenote: Fred, Clor. _and Maid, lay hold on_ Jacomo.] _Jac._ Where art thou treacher, What is the matter Sirs? Why do you hold me? I am basely wrong'd, Torture, and hell be with you; let me go. [Sidenote: _they drag him to_ _a chair and hold_ _him down in't_.] _Fre._ Good _Jac._ be patient, and but hear What I can say, you know I am your friend, If you yet doubt it, by my soul I am. _Jac._ S'death stand away; I would my breath were poyson. _Fred._ As I have life, that which was thrown on you, And this now done, were but to draw you hither For causes weighty, that concern your self, Void of all malice, which this Maid my Sister Shall tell you. _Jac._ Puh, a pox upon you all; you will not hold me For ever here, and till you let me go, I'le talk no more. _Fran._ As you're a Gentleman Let not this boldness make me be believ'd To be immodest; if there were a way More silently to be acquainted with you, God knows, that I would choose, but as it is Take it in plainness: I do love you more Than you do your content, if you refuse To pity me, I'le never cease to weep, And when mine eyes be out I will be told How fast the tears I shed for you do fall, And if they do not flow abundantly, I'le fetch a sigh shall make 'em start, and leap, As if the fire were under. _Jac._ Fine mocking, fine mocking. _Fred._ Mocking? look how she weeps. _Jac._ Do's she counterfeit crying too? _Fred._ Behold how the tears flow, or pity her Or never more be call'd a man. _Jac._ How's this? soft you, soft you my Masters: is't possible think you, She should be in earnest? _Clo._ Earnest? I in earnest: she's a fool to break so many sleeps, That would have been sound ones, & venture such a fane, and So much life, for e're an humorous asse i'th' world. _Fra._ Why _Clora_? I have known you cry as much For _Julio_, that has not half his worth, All night you write and weep too much I fear, I do but what I should. _Clora._ If I do write, I am answer'd _Frank_. _Fran._ I would I might be so. _Jac._ Good _Frederick_ let me go, I would fain try If that thing do not counterfeit. _Fred._ Give me your Sword then. _Jac._ No, but take my word, As I am man, I will not hurt a creature Under this roof, before I have deliver'd My self, as I am now, into your hands, Or have your full consent. _Fred._ It is enough.