L. Lam. What art thou?
Page. Shall we search his Breeches, an’t please your Highness, for Pistol, or other Instruments?
L. Lam. No, Boy, we fear him not, they say the Powers above protect the Persons of Princes. [[Walks away.]
Lov. Sure she’s mad, yet she walks loose about,
And she has Charms even in her raving Fit.
L. Lam. Answer me. What art thou?—
How shall I get my Servants hence with Honour? [Aside.
Lov. A Gentleman—
That could have boasted Birth and Fortune too,
Till these accursed Times, which Heaven confound,
Razing out all Nobility, all Virtue,