Chap. Everybody loved him; besides, he was my master's friend.
Cham. I could embrace thee for that very notion.
If thou didst love my father, I could think
Thou wouldst not be an enemy to me.
Chap. I can be no man's foe.
Cham. Then pr'ythee tell me,
Think'st thou the Lord Castalio loves my sister?
Nay, never start. Come, come, I know thy office
Opens thee all the secrets of the family.
Then, if thou'rt honest, use this freedom kindly.
Chap. Loves your sister!
Cham. Ay, loves her.
Chap. Sir, I never asked him; and wonder you should ask it me.
Cham. Nay, but thou'rt an hypocrite; is there not one
Of all thy tribe that's honest in your schools?
The pride of your superiors makes ye slaves:
Ye all live loathsome, sneaking, servile lives;
Not free enough to practise generous truth,
Though ye pretend to teach it to the world.
Chap. I would deserve a better thought from you.
Cham. If thou wouldst have me not contemn thy office
And character, think all thy brethren knaves,
Thy trade a cheat, and thou its worst professor,
Inform me; for I tell thee, priest, I'll know.