_Leo._ Noble Sir, Let us argue cooly, and consider like men.
_Zanch._ It is fair language, and ally'd to honor.
_Alph._ Why, what strange beast would your grave reverence Make me appear? like men!
_Zanch._ Taste but that point Sir, And ye recover all.
_Alph._ I tell thy wisdom I am as much a man, and as good a man.
_Alph._ And a man Dares make thee no man; or at best, a base man.
_Zanch._ Fie, fie, here wants much carriage.
_Alph._ Sirrah Signior, Give me my Daughter.
_Leo._ I am as gentle as your self, as free born.
_Leo._ And for Civil, A great deal more it seems: go look your Daughter.
_Leo._ That rough tongue You understand at first: you never think Sir Out of your mightiness, of my loss: here I stand A patient Anvil, to your burning angers Made subject to your dangers; yet my loss equal: Who shall bring home my Son?
_Alph._ Ha, thou dar'st not, By heaven I know thou dar'st not.
_Leo._ I dare more Sir If you dare be uncivil.
_Zanch._ A [f]itter time for fames sake: two weak Nurses Would laugh at this; are there no more days coming, No ground but this to argue on? no swords left Nor friends to carry this, but your own furies? Alas! it shows too weakly.
_Alph._ Let it show, I come not here for shews: laugh at me sirrah? I'll give ye cause to laugh.
_Leo._ Ye are as like sir As any man in _Spain_.
_Alph._ By heaven I will, I will brave _Leonardo_.
_Leo._ Brave _Alphonso_. I will expect it then.
_Zanch._ Hold ye there both, These terms are noble.
_Alph._ Assure your self ye shall: do ye see this sword sir? He has not cast his teeth yet.
_Alph._ He bites deep: most times mortal: Signior I'll hound him at the fair and home.
_Alph._ And at all those that dare maintain ye.
_Leo._ How you shall please sir, so it be fair, though certain, I had rather give you reason.
_Alph._ This is no age for reason; prick your reason Upon your swords point.
_Alph._ And there I'll hear it: so till I please, live Sir. [_Exit._
_Zanch._ The end crowns all things Signior, some little business past, this cause I'll argue And be a peace between ye, if't so please ye, And by the square of honor to the utmost: I feel the old man's master'd by much passion, And too high rackt, which makes him overshoot all His valour should direct at, and hurt those That stand but by as blenchers: this he must know too, As necessary to his judgement, doting women Are neither safe nor wise adventurers: conceive me, If once their will[s] have wander'd; nor is't then A time to use our rages: for why should I Bite at the stone, when he that throws it wrongs me? Do not we know that Women are most wooers Though closest in their carriage? Do not all men know, Scarce all the compass of the Globe can hold 'em If their affections be afoot? shall I then covet The follies of a she-fool, that by nature Must seek her like, by reason, be a woman, Sink a tall ship, because the sails defie me? No, I disdain that folly; he that ventures Whilst they are fit to put him on, has found out The everlasting motion in his scabbard. I doubt not to make peace: and so for this time My best love, and remembrance.