Mart. How might I do in killing of his body,
To save his Noble mind? Who waits there?
Enter a Sailor, with a rich Cap and Mantle.
Sayl. Madam.
Mart. Unbolt this man, and leave those things behind you:
And so away, now put 'em on. [Exit Sailer.
Vir. To what end?
Mart. To my End, to my Will.
Vir. I will.
Mart. I thank you.
Vir. Nay, now you thank me, I'll do more, I'll tell ye,
I am a servant to your courtesie.
And so far will be woo'd: but if this triumph
Be only aim'd to make your mischief glorious;
Lady, y'ave put a richer shroud upon me,
Which my strong mind shall suffer in.
Mart. Come hither,
And all thy bravery put into thy carriage,
For I will admire thee.