Part 10 (1/2)

_Beaup._ I know no duty, (How ever you may wreak your spleen on him,) That bindes me to endure this.

_Cham._ From _Dinant_ You'l suffer more; that ever cursed I, Should give my honour up, to the defence Of such a thing as he is, or my Lady That is all Innocent, for whom a dove would a.s.sume the courage of a daring Eagle, Repose her confidence in one that can No better guard her. In contempt of you I love _Dinant_, mine enemy, nay admire him, His valour claims it from me, and with justice, He that could fight thus, in a cause not honest, His sword edg'd with defence of right and honour, Would pierce as deep as lightning, with that speed too, And kill as deadly.

_Verd._ You are as far from justice In him you praise, as equitie in the censure You load me with.

_Beaup._ _Dinant?_ he durst not meet us.

_Lam._ How? durst not, Brother?

_Beaup._ Durst not, I repeat it.

_Verd._ Nor was it _Cleremont_'s valour that disarm'd us, I had the better of him; for _Dinant_, If that might make my peace with you, I dare Write him a Coward upon every post, And with the hazard of my life defend it.

_Lam._ If 'twere laid at the stake you'd lose it, Nephew.

_Cham._ Came he not, say you?

_Verd._ No, but in his room, There was a Devil, hir'd from some Magician I'th' shape of an Atturney.

_Beau._ 'Twas he did it.

_Verd._ And his the honour.

_Beau._ I could wish _Dinant_-- But what talk I of one that stept aside, And durst not come?

_Lam._ I am such a friend to truth, I cannot hear this: why do you detract Thus poorly (I should say to others basely) From one of such approv'd worth?

_Cham._ Ha! how's this?

_Lam._ From one so excellent in all that's n.o.ble, Whose only weakness is excess of courage?

That knows no enemies, that he cannot master, But his affections, and in them, the worst His love to me.

_Cham._ To you?

_Lam._ Yes, Sir, to me, I dare (for what is that which Innocence dares not) To you profess it: and he shun'd not the Combat For fear or doubt of these: blush and repent, That you in thought e're did that wrong to valour.

_Beaup._ Why, this is rare.

_Cham._ 'Fore heaven, exceeding rare; Why modest Lady, you that sing such Encomiums Of your first Suiter--

_Verd._ How can ye convince us In your reports?

_Lam._ With what you cannot answer, 'Twas my command that staid him.

_Cham._ Your command?

_Lam._ Mine, Sir, and had my will rank'd with my power, And his obedience, I could have sent him With more ease, weaponless to you, and bound, Than have kept him back, so well he loves his honour Beyond his life.

_Cham._ Better, and better still.