are quench'd
I being now anothers, truth forgive me
And let dissimulation be no crime,
Though most unwillingly I put it on
To guard a Brothers safetie.

Din. Now your pleasure,
Though ill you have deserv'd it, you perceive
I am still your fool, and cannot but obey
What ever you command.

Lamira. You speak, as if
You did repent it, and 'tis not worth my thanks then,
But there has been a time, in which you would
Receive this as a favour.

Din. Hope was left then
Of recompence.

Lamira. Why I am still Lamira,
And you Dinant, and 'tis yet in my power,
I dare not say I'le put it into act,
To reward your love and service.

Din. There's some comfort.

Lami. But think not that so low I prize my fame,
To give it up to any man that refuses
To buy it, or with danger of performance
Of what I shall enjoin him.

Din. Name that danger
Be it of what horrid shape soever Ladie
Which I will shrink at; only at this instant
Be speedie in't.

Lamira. I'le put you to the trial:
You shall not fight to day, do you start at that?
Not with my Brother, I have heard your difference,
Mine is no Helens beauty to be purchas'd
With blood, and so defended, if you look for
Favours from me, deserve them with obedience,
There's no way else to gain 'em.

Din. You command
What with mine honour I cannot obey,
Which lies at pawn against it, and a friend
Equally dear as that, or life, engag'd,
Not for himself, but me.

Lamira. Why, foolish man,
Dare you solicite me to serve your lust,
In which not only I abuse my Lord,
My Father, and my family, but write whore,
Though not upon my forehead, in my conscience,
To be read hourly, and yet name your honour?
Yours suffers but in circumstance; mine in substance.
If you obey me, you part with some credit,
From whom? the giddy multitude; but mankind
Will censure me, and justly.

Din. I will lose,
What most I do desire, rather than hazard
So dear a friend, or write my self a coward,
'Tis better be no man.

Lamira. This will not do;
Why, I desire not, you should be a coward,
Nor do I weigh my Brothers life with yours,
Meet him, fight with him, do, and kill him fairly,
Let me not suffer for you, I am careless.

Din. Suffer for me?

Lamira. For you, my kindness to you
Already brands me with a strumpets name.

Din. O that I knew the wretch!

Lamira. I will not name him,
Nor give you any Character to know him;
But if you dare, and instantly ride forth
At the west port of the City, and defend there
My reputation, against all you meet,
For two hours only, I'le not swear Dinant,
To satisfie, (though sure I think I shall)
What ever you desire, if you denie this,
Be desperate, for willingly, by this light,
I'le never see thee more.

Din. Two hours, do you say?

Lamira. Only two hours.

Din. I were no Gentleman,
Should I make scruple of it; this favour arms me,
And boldly I'll perform it. [Exit.

Lamira. I am glad on't.
This will prevent their meeting yet, and keep
My Brother safe, which was the mark I shot at. [Exit.

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Cler. I am first i'th' field, that honour's gain'd of our side,
Pray Heaven I may get off as honourablie,
The hour is past, I wonder Dinant comes not,
This is the place, I cannot see him yet;
It is his quarel too that brought me hither,
And I ne'r knew him yet, but to his honour
A firm and worthy Friend, yet I see nothing,
Nor Horse nor man, 'twould vex me to be left here,
To th' mercy of two swords, and two approv'd ones.
I never knew him last.

Beaup. You are well met Cleremont.

Verdo. You are a fair Gentleman, and love your friend Sir.
What are you ready? the time has overta'ne us.

Beaup. And this you know the place.

Cler. No Dinant yet?

Beaup. We come not now to argue, but to do;
We wait you Sir.

Cler. There's no time past yet Gentlemen,
We have day enough: is't possible he comes not?
You see I am ready here, and do but stay
Till my Friend come, walk but a turn or two,
'Twill not be long.

Verd. We came to fight.

Cler. Ye shall fight Gentlemen,
And fight enough, but a short turn or two,
I think I see him, set up your watch, we'l fight by it.

Beaup. That is not he; we will not be deluded.

Cler. Am I bob'd thus? pray take a pipe of tobacco,
Or sing but some new air; by that time, Gentlemen—

Verd. Come draw your Sword, you know the custome here Sir,
First come, first serv'd.

Cler. Though it be held a custom,
And practised so, I do not hold it honest;
What honour can you both win on me single?

Beaup. Yield up your Sword then.

Cler. Yield my Sword? that's Hebrew;
I'le be first cut a p[iec]es; hold but a while,
I'le take the next that comes.

You are an old Gentleman?

Gent. Yes indeed am I, Sir.

Cler. And wear no Sword?

Gent. I need none, Sir.

Cler. I would you did, and had one;
I want now such a foolish courtesie.
You see these Gentlemen?

Gent. You want a second.
In good Faith Sir, I was never handsom at it,
I would you had my Son, but he's in Italy,
A proper Gentleman; you may do well gallants
If your quarrel be not capital, to have more mercy,
The Gentleman may do his Country—

Cler. Now I beseech you, Sir,
If you dare not fight, do not stay to beg my pardon.
There lies your way.

Gent. Good morrow Gentlemen. [Exit.

Verd. You see your fortune,
You had better yield your Sword.

Cler. Pray ye stay a little.

Upon mine honestie, you shall be fought with;
Well, Dinant, well, these wear swords and seem brave fellows.
As you are Gentlemen, one of you supply me.
I want a Second now to meet these gallants,
You know what honour is.

1 Gent. Sir you must pardon us,
We goe about the same work, you are ready for;
And must fight presently, else we were your servants.

2 Gent. God speed you, and good day. [Exit Gent.

Cler. Am I thus Colted?

Beaup. Come either yield—

Cler. As you are honest Gentlemen,
Stay but the next, and then I'le take my fortune,
And if I fight not like a man—Fy Dinant,
Cold now