Duke. Hark you Sir!
Sham. Oh y'ave undone me.
Duke. How?
Sham. Cruelly undone me;
I have lost my peace and reputation by you:
Sir, pardon me, I can never love you more. [Exit.
Duke. What language call you this Sirs?
1 Gent. Truth my Lord, I've seldom heard a stranger—
2 Gent. He is a man of a most curious valour,
Wondrous precise, and punctual in that virtue.
Duke. But why to me so punctual? my last thought
Was most intirely fixt on his advancement
Why, I came now to put him in possession
Of his fair fortunes: what a mis-conceiver 'tis!
And from a Gentleman of our Chamber meerly,
Made him Vice-Admiral: I was setled in't.
I love him next to health: call him Gentlemen;
Why would not you, or you, ha' taken as much,
And never murmur'd? [Exit 1 Gent.
2 Gent. Troth, I think we should, my Lord,
And there's a fellow walks about the Court,
Would take a hundred of 'em.
Duke. I hate you all for't,
And rather praise his high pitch'd fortitude,
Though in extreams for niceness: now I think on't,
I would I had never done't—Now Sir, where is he?