Hem. Prethee, prethee conceive me [rightly], any thing Of profit or of place that may advance thee.
Hub. Why what a Goosecap would'st thou make me, Do not I know that men in misery will promise Any thing, more than their lives can reach at?
Hem. Believe me Huntsman,
There shall not one short syllable
That comes from me, pass
Without its full performance.
Hub. Say you so Sir? Have ye e're a good place for my quality?
Hem. A thousand Chases, Forests, Parks: I'le make thee Chief ranger over all the games.
Hub. When?
Hem. Presently.
Hub. This may provoke me: and yet to prove a knave too.
Hem. 'Tis to prove honest: 'tis to do good service,
Service for him thou art sworn to, for thy Prince,
Then for thy self that good; what fool would live here,
Poor, and in misery, subject to all dangers,
Law, and lewd people can inflict, when bravely
And to himself he may be law and credit?
Hub. Shall I believe thee?