Sham. If there be but so much substance in thee
To make a shelter for a man disgrac'd,
Hide my departure from that glorious woman
That comes with all perfection about her:
So noble, that I dare not be seen of her,
Since shame took hold of me: upon thy life
No mention of me.
Lap. I'll cut out my tongue first,
Before I'll loose my life, there's more belongs to't.
Lad. See there's a Gentleman, enquire of him.
2 Ser. For Monsieur Shamont, Madam?
Lad. For whom else, Sir?
1 Serv. Why, this fellow dares not see him.
Lad. How?
1 Serv. Shamont, Madam?
His very name's worse than a Feaver to him,
And when he cries, there's nothing stills him sooner;
Madam, your Page of thirteen is too hard for him,
'Twas try'd i'th' wood-yard.
Lad. Alas poor grieved Merit!
What is become of him? if he once fail,
Virtue shall find small friendship: farewel then
To Ladies worths, for any hope in men,
He lov'd for goodness, not for Wealth, or Lust,
After the world's foul dotage, he ne'er courted
The body, but the beauty of the mind,
A thing which common courtship never thinks on:
All his affections were so sweet and fair,
There is no hope for fame if he despair.
[Exit Lady and Serv.