_Sold._ And must be priviledg'd: a pox priviledge him: I was never so dry beaten since I was born, And by a litter of rogues, meer rogues, the whole twenty Had not above [nine] elbows amongst 'em all too: And the most part of those left-handed rascals, The very vomit, Sir, of Hospitals, Bridewels, and Spittle-houses; such nasty smellers, That if they'd been unfurnish'd of Club-Truncheons, They might have cudgell'd me with their very stinks, It was so strong, and sturdy: and shall this, This filthy injury, be set off with madness? _1 Gen._ Nay, take your own blouds counsel, Sir, hereafter, I'll deal no further in't: if you remember, It was not come to blows, when I advis'd you. _Sold._ No, but I ever said, 'twould come to something, And 'tis upon me, thank him: were he kin To all the mighty Emperors upon earth, He has not now in life three hours to reckon; I watch but a free time. _Enter_ Shamont. _1 Gent._ Your noble brother, Sir, I'll leave you now. [_Ex._ _Sham._ Soldier, I would I could perswade my thoughts From thinking thee a brother, as I can My tongue from naming on't: thou hast no friend here, But fortune and thy own strength, trust to them. [_Sold._ How? what's the incitement, sir?] _Sham._ Treachery to virtue; Thy treachery, thy faithless circumvention: Has Honor so few daughters, never fewer, And must thou aim thy treachery at the best? The very front of virtue, that blest Lady? the Dukes Sister? Created more for admirations cause, Than for loves ends; whose excellency sparkles More in Divinity, than mortal beauty; And as much difference 'twixt her mind and body, As 'twixt this earths poor centre, and the Sun: And could'st thou be so injurious to fair goodness, Once to attempt to court her down to frailty? Or put her but in mind that there is weakness, Sin, and desire, which she should never hear of? Wretch, thou'st committed worse than Sacriledge, In the attempting on't, and ought'st to dye for't. _Sold._ I rather ought to do my best, to live, Sir. Provoke me not; for I've a wrong sits on me, That makes me apt for mischief; [I] shall lose All respects suddainly of friendship, Brother-hood, Or any sound that way. _Sham._ But 'ware me most; For I come with a two-edg'd injury; Both my disgrace, and thy apparent falshood, Which must [b]e dangerous. _Sold._ I courted her, Sir; Love starve me with delays, when I confess it not. _Sham._ There's nothing then but death Can be a pennance fit for that confession. _Sold._ But far from any vitious taint. _Sham._ Oh Sir, Vice is a mighty stranger grown to courtship. _Sold._ Nay, then the fury of my wrong light on thee. _Enter 1 Gentleman, and others._