2 Gent. Faith we dare not Sir.
Sham. Dare ye be false to honor, and yet dare not
Do a man justice? give me leave—
1 Gent. Good sweet Sir.
H'as sent twice for you.
Sham. Is this brave, or manly?
1 Gent. I prethee be conform'd.
Sham. Death—
Enter Duke.
2 Gent. Peace, he's come in troth.
Sham. Oh have you betraid me to my shame afresh?
How am I bound to loath you!
Duke. Shamont, welcome,
I sent twice.