ay that a man should entertain thee now,
Would thou be honest, humble, just, and true?

MUS. Signior: by the place and honour of a soldier --

LOR. SE. Nay, nay, I like not these affected oaths;
Speak plainly, man: what thinkst thou of my words?

MUS. Nothing, Signior, but wish my fortunes were as happy as
my service should be honest.

LOR. SE. Well, follow me, I'll prove thee, if thy deeds
Will carry a proportion to thy words.

[EXIT LOR. SE.]

MUS. Yes, sir, straight, I'll but garter my hose; oh, that
my belly were hoop'd now, for I am ready to burst with
laughing. 'Slid, was there ever seen a fox in years to
betray himself thus? now shall I be possest of all his
determinations, and consequently my young master; well, he
is resolved to prove my honesty: faith, and I am resolved
to prove his patience: oh, I shall abuse him intolerably:
this small piece of service will bring him clean out of
love with the soldier for ever. It's no matter, let the
world think me a bad counterfeit, if I cannot give him the
slip at an instant; why, this is better than to have stayed
his journey by half: well, I'll follow him. Oh, how I long
to be employed.

[EXIT.]

ACT II. SCENE III.

ENTER PROSPERO, BOBADILLA, AND MATHEO.

MAT. Yes, faith, sir, we were at your lodging to seek
you too.

PROS. Oh, I came not there to-night.

BOB. Your brother delivered us as much.

PROS. Who, Giuliano?

BOB. Giuliano. Signior Prospero, I know not in what kind
you value me, but let me tell you this: as sure as God, I
do hold it so much out of mine honour and reputation, if I
should but cast the least regard upon such a dunghill of
flesh; I protest to you (as I have a soul to be saved) I
ne'er saw any gentlemanlike part in him: an there were no
more men living upon the face of the earth, I should not
fancy him, by Phoebus.

MAT. Troth, nor I, he is of a rustical cut, I know not how:
he doth not carry himself like a gentleman.

PROS. Oh, Signior Matheo, that's a grace peculiar but to a
few; "quos aequus amavit Jupiter."

MAT. I understand you, sir.

[ENTER LOR. JU. AND STEP.]

PROS. No question you do, sir: Lorenzo! now on my soul,
welcome; how dost thou, sweet rascal? my Genius! 'Sblood,
I shall love Apollo and the mad Thespian girls the better
while I live for this