GASPER

We know it signior Maximilian, The fame of all your actions sounds nought else, But perfect honour from her swelling cheeks. I signior. Marry with my Lords leave here I say signior, This free & ample offer you have made, Agrees well with your honour, but not ours: For I think not but Chamount is aswell born As is Ferneze, then if I mistake not, He scorns to have his worth so underprised, That it should need and adjunct, in exchange, Of any equal fortune, Noble Signior? I am a soldier, and I love Chamount, Ere I would bruise his estimation, With the least ruin of mine own respect, In this vild kind, these legs should rot with irons, This body pine in prison, till the flesh Dropped from my bones in flakes, Like withered leaves, In heart of Autumn, from a stubborn Oak. I but your Lordship knows not what hard fate Might have pursued us, therefore howsoever The changing of our names was necessary And we must now be careful to maintain This error strongly, which our own devise, Hath thrust into their ignorant conceits, For should we (on the taste of this good fortune) Appear our selves, would both create in them A kind of jealousy, and perchance invert Those honourable courses they intend. Oh belike that's the Count Ferneze, that old man. I sure, I think they are. So are they both believe me. My will does then apprroue what these have urged. My Lord these circumstances would come well, To one less capable of your desert Then I: in whom your mirrit is confirmed With such authentical and grounded proves. Farewell my honoured Lord. I had remembered that had not you urged it. My good Lord. My honoured Lord, hear me with patience, Nor hope of favour, not the fear of torment, Shall sway my tongue, from uttering of a truth. The morn before this battle did begin, Wherein my Lord Chamount and I were taken, We vowed one mutual fortune, good or bade, That day should be embraced of us both, And urging that might worst succeed our vow, We there concluded to exchange our names. True noble Lord. Nay I beseech you honoured gentlemen, Let not the untimely ruin of your love, Follow these sleight occurrents; be assured Chamounts return will heal these wounds again, And break the points of your too piercing thoughts. My Lord, I feed you not with a vain hope, I know assuredly he will return, And bring your noble son along with him. Alas, these threats are idle, Like the wind, And breed no terror in a guiltless mind. Welcome the worst, I suffer for a friend, Your tortures will, my love shall never end. My Lord, my Lord, Use your extremest vengeance, isle be glad To suffer ten times more, for such a friend.