Serv. You must not strive Sir.
Alph. No, no, come near.
Sanc. My Daughter: Leocadia?
Alph. How Sir, your Daughter?
Sanc. Yes Sir, and as sure
As that's your Son: Come hither: what now? run
Out o' your sex? breech'd? was't not enough
At once to leave thy Father, and thine honor,
Unless th' hadst quit thy self too.
Phi. Sir, what fault
She can be urg'd of, I must take on me
The guilt and punishment.
Sanc. You must Sir: how
If you shall not, though you must? I deal not
With boys Sir; I, you have a Father here
Shall do me right.
Alph. Thou art not mad Philippo?
Art thou Mark-antonie? Son to Leonardo?
Our business is to them.
Sanc. No, no, no, no.
I'll ha' the business now; with you, none else,
Pray you let's speak, in private: (carry me to him)
Your Son's the ravisher Sir, and here I find him:
I hope you'll give me cause to think you noble,
And do me right, with your sword Sir, as becomes
One gentleman of honor to another;
All this is fair Sir: here's the Sea fast by,
Upon the sands, we will determine
'Tis that I call you to; let's make no daies on't,
I'll lead your way; to the sea-side Rascals.
Phil. Sir
I would beseech your stay; he may not follow you.