_L[o]ng._ Like one at Brokers; I think forfeited. Your promising Counsel at the first Put strongly forward with a labour'd speed, And such a violence of pleading, that His Fee in Sugar-candy scarce will make His throat a satisfaction for the hurt He did it, and he carried the whole cause Before him, with so clear a passage, that The people in the favour of your side Cried _Montague, Montague_: in the spight of him That cryed out silence, and began to laugh Your adversaries advocate to scorn: Who like a cunning Footman set me forth With such a temperate easie kind of course To put him into exercise of strength, And follow'd his advantages so close, That when your hot mouth'd pleader thought h' had won, Before he reacht it, he was out of breath, And then the other stript him. _Mont._ So all is lost. _Long._ But how I know not; for, (methought) I stood Confounded with the clamour of the Court, Like one embark'd upon a storm at Sea, Where the tempestuous noise of Thunder mixt With roaring of the billows, and the thick, Imperfect language of the Sea-men, takes His understanding and his safety both Together from him. _Mont._ Thou dost bring ill news. _Long._ Of what I was unwilling to have been The first reporter. _Mont._ Didst observe no more? _Long._ At least no better. _Mont._ Then th'art not inform'd So well as I am; I can tell thee that Will please thee, for when all else left my cause, My very adversaries took my part. _Long._ --Whosoever told you that, abused you. _Mont._ Credit me, he took my part When all forsook me. _Long._ Took it from you. _Mont._ Yes I mean so, and I think he had just cause To take it, when the verdict gave it him. _Dub._ His Spirit would ha' sunk him, e'r he could Have carried an ill fortune of this weight so lightly. _Mont._ Nothing is a misery, unless our weakness apprehend it so; We cannot be more faithful to our selves In any thing that's manly, than to make Ill fortune as contemptible to us As it makes us to others. _Enter Lawyers._ _Long._ Here come they Whose very countenances will tell you how Contemptible it is to others. _Mont._ Sir? _Long._ The Sir of Knighthood may be given him, e'r They hear you now? _Mont._ Good Sir but a word. _Dub._ How soon the loss of wealth makes any man Grow out of knowledge. _Long._ Let me see, I pray, Sir, Never stood you upon the Pillory? _1 Law._ The Pillory? _Long._ Oh now I know you did not. Y'ave ears, I thought ye had lost 'em; pray observe, Here's one that once was gracious in your eyes. _1 Law._ Oh my Lord, have an eye upon him. _Long._ But ha' you ne'er a Counsel to redeem His Land yet from the judgement?