Jul. And dare you deny her,
Or any else that I call mine? No more,
Attend her with all reverence and respect;
The want in you of manners, my Lord may
Construe in me for malice. I will teach you
How to esteem and love the beauty he dotes on;
Prepare a Banquet.
Enter Martia and Boy.
Madam, thus my duty
Stoops to the favor you vouchsafe your servant,
In honouring her house.
Mart. Is this in scorn?
Jul. No by the life of Virolet: give me leave
To swear by him, as by a Saint I worship,
But am to know no farther, my heart speaks that
My servants have been rude, and this boy (doting
Upon my sorrows) hath forgot his duty:
In which, that you may think I have no share,
Sirra, upon your knees, desire her pardon.
Boy. I dare not disobey you.
Mart. Prethee rise,
My anger never looks so low: I thank you.
And will deserve it, if we may be private,
I came to see and speak with you.
Jul. Be gone. [Exit Boy.
Good Madam sit.
Mart. I rob you of your place then.
Jul. You have deserv'd a better, in my bed;
Make use of this too: Now your pleasure Lady.
If in your breast there be a worthy pitty,
That brings you for my comfort, you do nobly:
But if you come to triumph in your conquest,
Or tread on my calamities, 'twill wrong
Your other excellencies. Let it suffice,
That you alone enjoy the best of men,
And that I am forsaken.