_Cha._ Oh, my heart! Hold yet a little--doe not hope to scape By flight, it is impossible: though I might 70 On all aduantage take thy life, and iustly; This sword, my fathers sword, that nere was drawne, But to a noble purpose, shall not now Doe th’ office of a hangman, I reserue it To right mine honour, not for a reuenge 75 So poore, that though with thee, it should cut off Thy family, with all that are allyed To thee in lust, or basenesse, ’twere still short of All termes of satisfaction. Draw. _Nou._ I dare not, I haue already done you too much wrong, 80 To fight in such a cause. _Cha._ Why, darest thou neyther Be honest, coward, nor yet valiant, knaue? In such a cause come doe not shame thy selfe: Such whose bloods wrongs, or wrong done to themselues Could neuer heate, are yet in the defence 85 Of their whores, daring looke on her againe. You thought her worth the hazard of your soule, And yet stand doubtfull in her quarrell, to Venture your body. _Bau._ No, he feares his cloaths, More then his flesh _Cha._ Keepe from me, garde thy life, 90 Or as thou hast liu’d like a goate, thou shalt Dye like a sheepe. _Nou._ Since ther’s no remedy _They fight, Nouall is slaine._ Despaire of safety now in me proue courage. _Cha._ How soone weak wrong’s or’throwne! lend me your hand, Beare this to the Caroach--come, you haue taught me 95 To say you must and shall: I wrong you not, Y’are but to keepe him company you loue. Is’t done? ’tis well. Raise officers, and take care, All you can apprehend within the house May be forth comming. Do I appeare much mou’d? 100 _Bau._ No, sir. _Cha._ My griefes are now, Thus to be borne. Hereafter ile finde time and place to mourne. _Exeunt._ _Scaena 3._ _Enter Romont, Pontalier._ [_A Street_] _Pont._ I was bound to seeke you, sir. _Rom._ And had you found me In any place, but in the streete, I should Haue done,--not talk’d to you. Are you the Captaine? The hopefull _Pontalier_? whom I haue seene Doe in the field such seruice, as then made you 5 Their enuy that commanded, here at home To play the parasite to a gilded knaue, And it may be the Pander.