_Enter Amiens, and Longeville, with a Paper._ _Ami._ You'll carry it. _Long._ As I live although my packet were like _Bellerophon's_, what have you seen in me or my behavior since your favors so plentifully showr'd upon my wants, that may beget distrust of my p[er]formance? _Ami._ Nay, be not angry, if I entertained But the least scruple of your love, or courage, I would make choyce of one which my estate Should do me right in this, nor can you blame me If in a matter of such consequence I am so importunate. _Long._ Good my Lord let me prevent your farther conjurations To rayse my spirit, I know this is a challenge To be delivered unto _Orlean[c]e_ hand, And that my undertaking ends not there, But I must be your second, and in that Not alone search your enemy, measure weapons, But stand in all your hazards, as our blouds Ran in the self-same veins, in which if I Better not your opinion, as a limb That's putrifi'd and useless, cut me off, And underneath the Gallows bury it. _Ami._ At full you understand me, and in this Bind me, and what's mine to you and yours, I will not so much wrong you as to add One syllable more, let it suffice I leave My honor to your guard: and in that prove, You hold the first place in my heart and love. [_Ex. Ami._ _Long._ The first place in a Lords affection? very good; and how long doth that last? perhaps the changing of some three shirts in the Tennis-Court; well, it were very necessary that an order were taken (if it were possible,) that younger brothers might have more wit, or more money: for now, however the fool hath long been put upon him that inherits, his revenue hath bought him a spunge, and wip't off the imputation, and for the understanding of the younger, let him get as much Rhetorick as he can, to grace his language. _Enter_ Dubois. They will see, he shall have gloss little enough to set out his Bark; stand _Dubois_, look about, 's all safe? _Dub._ Approach not near me but with reverence Lawrel and adorations, I have done more than deserves a hundred thanks. _Long._ How now, what's the matter? _Dub._ With this hand, only aided by this brain, Without an _Orpheus_ Harp redeem'd from Hells Three headed Porter, our _Euridice_. _Long._ Nay, prethee speak sence, this is like the stale bragart in a Play. _Dub._ Then in plain Prose thus, and with as little action as thou canst desire, the three headed Porter, were three unexorable Catch-poles, out of whose jaws without the help of _Orpheus_ Harp, bait or bribe; for those two strings make the Musick, that molifies those flinty furies, I rescued our _Euridice_, I mean my old Master _Montague_.