_Sham._ 'Tis like the Gift of Healing, but Diviner; For that but cures diseases in the body, This works a cure on Fame, on Reputation: The noblest piece of Surgery upon earth. _Duke. Shamont_; he minds me not. _Sham._ A Brother do't? _Duke. Shamont_ I say. [_Gives him a touch with his switch._ _Sham._ Ha? If he be mortal, by this hand he perishes; [_Draws._ Unless it be a stroke from heaven, he dies for't. _Duke._ Why, how now Sir? 'twas I. _Sham._ The more's my misery. _Duke._ Why, what's the matter prethee? _Sham._ Can you ask it, Sir? No man else should; stood forty lives before him, By this I would have op'd my way to him; It could not be you Sir, excuse him not, What e'er he be, as y'are dear to honor, That I may find my peace agen. _Duke._ Forbear I say, Upon my love to truth, 'twas none but I. _Sham._ Still miserable? _Duke._ Come, come, what ails you Sir? _Sham._ Never sate shame cooling so long upon me, Without a satisfaction in revenge, And heaven has made it here a sin to wish it. _Duke._ Hark you Sir! _Sham._ Oh y'ave undone me. _Duke._ How? _Sham._ Cruelly undone me; I have lost my peace and reputation by you: Sir, pardon me, I can never love you more. [_Exit._ _Duke._ What language call you this Sirs? _1 Gent._ Truth my Lord, I've seldom heard a stranger-- _2 Gent._ He is a man of a most curious valour, Wondrous precise, and punctual in that virtue. _Duke._ But why to me so punctual? my last thought Was most intirely fixt on his advancement Why, I came now to put him in possession Of his fair fortunes: what a mis-conceiver 'tis! And from a Gentleman of our Chamber meerly, Made him Vice-Admiral: I was setled in't. I love him next to health: call him Gentlemen; Why would not you, or you, ha' taken as much, And never murmur'd? [_Exit 1 Gent._ _2 Gent._ Troth, I think we should, my Lord, And there's a fellow walks about the Court, Would take a hundred of 'em. _Duke._ I hate you all for't, And rather praise his high pitch'd fortitude, Though in extreams for niceness: now I think on't, I would I had never done't--Now Sir, where is he? _Enter 1 Gentleman._ _1 Gent._ His sute is only Sir, to be excus'd. _Duke._ He shall not be excus'd, I love him dearlier: Say we intreat him; goe, he must not leave us [_Exit two Gentlemen._ So virtue bless me, I ne'er knew him paralell'd; Why, he's more precious to me now, than ever. _Enter two Gentlemen, and_ Shamont. _2 Gent._ With much fair language w'ave brought him. _Duke._ Thanks----Where is he? _2 Gent._ Yonder Sir. _Duke._ Come forward man. _Sham._ Pray pardon me, I'm asham'd to be seen Sir.