_Mont._ Though you take priviledge to use your tongue[s], I pray you hold your fingers, 'Twas your base cozenag[e] made me as I am: And were you somewhere else, I would take off This proud film from your eyes, that will not let you, Know I am _Montague_. _Enter_ Lamira _behind the Arras_. _Lam._ I will observe this better. _Lav._ And art thou he? I will do thee grace; give me thy hand: I am glad thou hast taken so good a course; serve God, and please thy Mistriss; if I prove to be thy Master, as I am very like[l]y, I will do for thee. _Mal._ Faith the fellow's well made for a Serving-man, and will no doubt, carry a chine of Beef with a good grace. _La-p._ Prethee be careful of me in my chamber, I will remember thee at my departure. _Mont._ All this I can endure under this roof, And so much owe I her, whose now I am, That no wrong shall incense me to molest, Her quiet house, while you continue here, I will not be ashamed to do you service More than to her, because such is her pleasure. But you that have broke thrice, and fourteen times Compounded for two shillings in the pound, Know I dare kick you in your shop; do you hear? If ever I see _Paris_, though an Army Of musty Murrions, rusty brown Bills and Clubs, Stand for your guard--I have heard of your tricks, And you that smell of Amber at my charge, And triumph in your cheat; well, I may live To meet thee, be it among a troop of such That are upon the fair face of the Court Like running Ulcers, and before thy whore Trampel upon thee. _La-p._ This a language for a Livery? take heed, I am a Captain. _Mont._ A Coxcomb are you not? that thou and I, To give proof, which of us dares most, were now In midst of a rough Sea, upon a piece Of a split Ship, where only one might ride, [Lamira _from the Arras_. I would--but foolish anger makes me talk Like a Player. _Lam._ Indeed you act a part Doth ill become you my servant; is this your duty? _Mont._ I crave your pardon, and will hereafter be more circumspect. _Lav._ Oh the power of a Womans tongue: it hath done more than we three with our swords durst undertake; put a mad man to silence. _Lam._ Why sirrah, these are none of your comrades To drink with in the Cellar; one of them For ought you know, may live to be your Master. _La-p._ There's some comfort yet. _Lam._ Here's choice of three, a wealthy Merchant. _Mal._ Hem, she's taken, she hath spy'd my good Calf, And many Ladies chuse their Husbands by that. _Lam._ A Courtier that's in grace, a valiant Captain, And are these mates for you, away, begone.