_Duke._ Was ever such a touchie man heard of? Prethee come nearer. _Sham._ More into the light? Put not such cruelty into your requests my Lord, First to disgrace me publickly, and then draw me Into mens eye-sight, with the shame yet hot Upon my reputation. _Duke._ What disgrace, Sir? _Sham._ What? Such as there can be no forgiveness for, That I can find in honour. _Duke._ That's most strange, Sir. _Sham._ Yet I have search'd my bosom to find one, And wrestled with my inclination, But 'twill not be: would you had kill'd me Sir. With what an ease had I forgiven you then! But to endure a stroke from any hand Under a punishing Angel, which is justice, Honor disclaim that man, for my part chiefly: Had it been yet the malice of your sword, Though it had cleft me, 't had been noble to me; You should have found my thanks paid in a smile If I had fell unworded; but to shame me, With the correction that your horse should have, Were you ten thousand times my royal Lord, I cannot love you never, nor desire to serve you more. If your drum call me, I am vowed to valour, But peace shall never know me yours agen, Because I've lost mine own, I speak to dye Sir; Would you were gracious that way to take off shame, With the same swiftness as you pour it on: And since it is not in the power of Monarchs To make a Gentleman, which is a substance Only begot of merit, they should be careful Not to destroy the worth of one so rare, Which neither they can make; nor lost, repair. [_Exit._ _Duke._ Y'ave set a fair light Sir before my judgement, Which burns with wondrous clearness; I acknowledge it, And your worth with it: but then Sir, my love, My love--what gone agen? _1 Gen._ And full of scorn, my Lord. _Duke._ That language will undoe the man that keeps it. Who knows no diff'rence 'twixt contempt and manhood. Upon your love to goodness, Gentlemen, Let me not lose him long: how now? _Enter a Huntsman._ _Hunts._ The game's at height my Lord. _Duke._ Confound both thee and it: hence break it off; He hates me brings me news of any pleasure: I felt not such a conflict since I cou'd; Distinguish betwixt worthiness and bloud. [_Ex._ _Actus Tertius. Scæna Prima._ _Enter the two Brothers, 1 Gentleman, with those that_ _were the Masquers, and the_ Cupid. _1 Gent._ I heartily commend your project, Gentlemen, 'Twas wise and virtuous. _1 Bro._ 'Twas for the safety Of precious honour Sir, which near bloud binds us to: He promis'd the poor easie fool there, marriage, There was a good Maiden-head lost i'th' belief on't, Beshrew her hasty confidence.