Mir. A Traitor and a Boy too?
Shame take me if I suffer't: puff: farewel love.
Mount. Ye know my business, I must leave ye, Sir,
My hour grows on apace.
Mir. I must not leave you
I dare not, nor I will not, till your goodness
Have granted me one courtesie: ye say ye love me?
Mount. I doe, and dearly: ask, and let that courtesie
Nothing concern mine honor.
Mir. You must do it,
Or you will never see me more:
Mount. What is it?
It shall be great that puts ye off; pray speak it.
Mir. Pray let me fight to day: good, dear Mountferrat,
Let me, and bold Gomera—
Mount. Fie Miranda,
Doe ye weigh my worth so little?
Mir. On my knees,
As ever thou hadst true touch of a sorrow
Thy friend conceiv'd, as ever honor lov'd thee.
Mount. Shall I turn recreant now?