_Ver._ Oh! Master, I have sought you a long hour, Good faith, I never joy'd out of your sight; For Heavens sake, Sir, be merry, or else bear The buffets of your fortunes with more scorn; Do but begin to rail, teach me the way, And I'll sit down, and help your anger forth: I have known you wear a suit; full worth a Lordship, Give to a man whose need ne'er frighted you From calling of him friend, five hundred Crowns E'er sleep had left your sences to consider Your own important present uses; yet Since I have seen you with a t[r]encher wait, Void of all scorn, therefore I'll wait on you. _Mont._ Would [God] thou wert less honest. _Ver._ Would to [God] you were less worthy: I am ev'n w'e Sir. _Mon._ Is not thy Master strangely fall'n, when thou Servest for no wages, but for charity? Thou dost surcharge me with thy plenteous love: The goodness of thy virtue shown to me, More opens still my disability To quit thy pains: credit me loving boy, A free and honest nature may be opprest, Tir'd with courtesies from a liberal spirit, When they exceed his means of gratitude. _Ver._ But 'tis a due in him that to that end Extends his love or duty. _Mont._ Little world Of virtue, why dost love and follow me? _Ver._ I will follow you through all Countreys, I'll run (fast as I can) by your horse side, I'll hold your stirrop when you do alight, And without grudging, wait till you return: I'll quit offer'd means, and expose my self To cold and hunger, still to be with you; Fearless I'll travel through a wilderness, And when you are weary, I will lay me down That in my bosom you may rest your head, Where whilst you sleep, I'll watch, that no wild beast Shall hurt or trouble you: and thus we'll breed a story To make every hearer weep, When they disco[u]rse our fortunes and our loves. _Mont._ Oh what a scoff might men of women make, If they did know this boy? but my desire Is, that thou wouldest not (as thou usest still: When like a servant, I 'mong servants sit) Wait on my Trencher, fill my cups with Wine: Why should'st thou do this boy? prethee consider, I am not what I was. _Ver._ Curst be the day when I forget that _Montague_ was my Lord, or not remember him my Master still. _Mont._ Rather curse me, with whom thy youth hath spent, So many hours, and yet untaught to live By any worldly quality. _Ver._ Indeed you never taught me how to handle Cards To cheat and cozen men with oaths and lies: Those are the worldly qualities to live: Some of our scarlet Gallants teach their boys These worldly qualities. Since stumbling fortune then leaves virtue thus Let me leave fortune, e'r be vicious. _Mon._ Oh lad, thy love will kill me.