1 I have done the state some service, and they know't.
2 Let him do his spite; My services, which I have done the signiory, Shall out-tongue his complaints.
3 Tis the curse of service, Preferment goes by letter and affection, And not by old gradation, where each second Stood heir to the first.
4 Because we come to do you service, and you think we are ruffians, you'll have your daughter cover'd with a Barbary horse; you'll have your nephews neigh to you; you'll have coursers for cousins and gennets for germans.
5 Ay, but, lady, That policy may either last so long, Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet, Or breed itself so out of circumstance, That, I being absent, and my place supplied, My general will forget my love and service.
6 Though in the trade of war I have slain men, Yet do I hold it very stuff o the conscience To do no contriv'd murder; I lack iniquity Sometimes to do me service: nine or ten times I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the ribs.
7 Others there are Who, trimm'd in forms, and visages of duty, Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves, And throwing but shows of service on their lords, Do well thrive by them, and when they have lin'd their coats, Do themselves homage.
8 If my offence be of such mortal kind That nor my service past, nor present sorrows, Nor purpos'd merit in futurity, Can ransom me into his love again, But to know so must be my benefit; So shall I clothe me in a forc'd content, And shut myself up in some other course To fortune's alms.