Ami. Do you speak Sir, out of your friendship to me?
Mont. Yes my Lord, and out of truth, for I could never flatter.
Ami. I would not say how much I owe you for it,
For that were but a promise, but I'll thank ye,
As now I find you, in despite of fortune,
A fair and noble Gentleman.
Lami. My Lords, I must confess the choice this man hath made
Is every way a great one, if not too great,
And no way to be slighted: yet because
We love to have our own eyes sometimes n[o]w,
Give me a little liberty to see,
How I could fit my self, if I were put to't.
Ami. Madam we must.
Lami. Are ye all agreed?
Omnes. We be.
Lami. Then as I am a Maid, I shall choose here.
Montague I must have thee.
Mont. Why Madam, I have learnt to suffer more
Than you can (out of pity) mock me with this way especially.
Lami. Thou think'st I jest now;
But by the love I bear thee, I will have thee.