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Speed. The conclusion is then, that it will.

Launce. Thou shalt never get such a secret from me but by a parable.

Speed. ’Tis well that I get it so. But, Launce, how say’st thou that my master is become a notable lover?

Launce. I never knew him otherwise.

Speed. Than how?

Launce. A notable lubber—as thou reportest him to be.

Speed. Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistak’st me.

Launce. Why, fool, I meant not thee, I meant thy master.

Speed. I tell thee, my master is become a hot lover.

Launce. Why, I tell thee, I care not, though he burn himself in love. If thou wilt, go with me to the alehouse; if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the name of a Christian.

Speed. Why?

Launce. Because thou hast not so much charity in thee as to go to the ale with a Christian. Wilt thou go?

Speed. At thy service.

Exeunt.

¶

Enter Proteus solus.

Pro.

To leave my Julia—shall I be forsworn?

To love fair Silvia—shall I be forsworn?

To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn.

And ev’n that pow’r which gave me first my oath