_Mons._ Pray, sir, hold your peace; I'll ne'er take my rival's counsel, be't what 'twill. I know what you would be at; you are disappointed of your mistress, and could hang yourself, and therefore will not fear hanging. But I am a successful lover, and need neither hang for you nor my mistress: nay, if I should kill you, I know I should do you a kindness; therefore e'en live, to die daily with envy of my happiness. But if you will needs die, kill yourself, and be damned for me, I vow and swear. _Ger._ But won't you fight for your mistress? _Mons._ I tell you, you shall not have the honour to be killed for her: besides I will not be hit in the teeth by her as long as I live, with the great love you had for her. Women speak well of their dead husbands; what will they do of their dead gallants? _Ger._ But if you will not fight for her, you shall dance for her, since you desired me to teach you to dance too;--I'll teach you to dance thus--[_Strikes his sword at his legs,_ Monsieur _leaps._ _Mons._ Nay, if it be for the sake of my mistress, there's nothing I will refuse to do. _Ger._ Nay, you must dance on. _Mons._ Ay, ay, for my mistress, and sing too, la, la, la, ra, la. _Enter_ HIPPOLITA _and_ PRUE. _Hip._ What! swords drawn betwixt you two! what's the matter? _Mons._ [_Aside._] Is she here?--[_Aloud._] Come, put up your sword; you see this is no place for us; but the devil eat me if you shall not eat my sword, but-- _Hip._ What's the matter, cousin? _Mons._ Nothing, nothing, cousin, but your presence is a sanctuary for my greatest enemy, or else, _tête non!_-- _Hip._ What, you have not hurt my cousin, sir, I hope? [_To_ GERRARD. _Ger._ How! she's concerned for him! nay, then I need not doubt, my fears are true. [_Aside._ _Mons._ What was that you said, cousin? hurt me!--ha! ha! ha! hurt me!--if any man hurt me, he must do it basely; he shall ne'er do it when my sword's drawn, sa! sa! sa! _Hip._ Because you will ne'er draw your sword, perhaps. _Mons._ [_Aside._] Scurvily guessed.--[_Aloud._] You ladies may say anything; but, cousin, pray do not you talk of swords and fighting; meddle with your guitar, and talk of dancing with your dancing-master there, ha! ha! ha! _Hip._ But I am afraid you have hurt my master, cousin:--he says nothing; can he draw his breath? _Mons._ No, 'tis you have hurt your master, cousin, in the very heart, cousin, and therefore he would hurt me; for love is a disease makes people as malicious as the plague does. _Hip._ Indeed, poor master, something does ail you. _Mons._ Nay, nay, cousin, faith don't abuse him any longer; he's an honest gentleman, and has been long of my acquaintance, and a man of tolerable sense, to take him out of his love; but prithee, cousin, don't drive the jest too far for my sake. _Ger._ He counsels you well, pleasant, cunning, jilting miss, for his sake; for if I am your divertisement, it shall be at his cost, since he's your gallant in favour.