_Alph._ I say still. Leave off your Rhetorick, and restore my Daughter. And suddainly: bring in your rebel too, Mountdragon, he that mounts without commission That I may see him punished, and severely, Or by that holy Heaven, I'll fire your house, And there's my way of honor. _Zanch._ Pray give me leave Was not man made the noblest creature? _Alph._ Well Sir. _Zanch._ Should not his mind then answer to his making, And to his mind his actions, if this ought to be, Why do we run a blind way from our worths, And cancel our discretions, doing those things To cure offences, are the most offences? We have rules of justice in us; to those rules Let us apply our angers: you can consider The want in others of these terminations And how unfurnish'd they appear. _Alph._ Hang others, And where the wrongs are open, hang respects, I come not to consider. _Leo._ Noble Sir, Let us argue cooly, and consider like men. _Alph._ Like men! _Leo._ Ye are too sudain still. _Alph._ Like men Sir? _Zanch._ It is fair language, and ally'd to honor. _Alph._ Why, what strange beast would your grave reverence Make me appear? like men! _Zanch._ Taste but that point Sir, And ye recover all. _Alph._ I tell thy wisdom I am as much a man, and as good a man. _Leo._ All this is granted Sir. _Alph._ As wise a man. _Zanch._ Ye are not tainted that way. _Alph._ And a man Dares make thee no man; or at best, a base man. _Zanch._ Fie, fie, here wants much carriage. _Alph._ Hang much carriage. _Leo._ Give me good language. _Alph._ Sirrah Signior, Give me my Daughter. _Leo._ I am as gentle as your self, as free born. _Zanch._ Observe his way. _Leo._ As much respect ow'd to me. _Zanch._ This hangs together nobly. _Leo._ And for Civil, A great deal more it seems: go look your Daughter. _Zanch._ There ye went well off Signior. _Leo._ That rough tongue You understand at first: you never think Sir Out of your mightiness, of my loss: here I stand A patient Anvil, to your burning angers Made subject to your dangers; yet my loss equal: Who shall bring home my Son? _Alph._ A whipping Beadle. _Leo._ Why, is your Daughter whorish? _Alph._ Ha, thou dar'st not, By heaven I know thou dar'st not. _Leo._ I dare more Sir If you dare be uncivil. _Alph._ Laugh too, Pidgeon. _Zanch._ A [f]itter time for fames sake: two weak Nurses Would laugh at this; are there no more days coming, No ground but this to argue on? no swords left Nor friends to carry this, but your own furies? Alas! it shows too weakly. _Alph._ Let it show, I come not here for shews: laugh at me sirrah? I'll give ye cause to laugh. _Leo._ Ye are as like sir As any man in _Spain_.