THIRD GENTLEMAN There is reason in what he says.

SECOND GENTLEMAN Charge on then, bottle in hand. There's husbandry in that.

(_They go out, singing. Only Level remains, who observes Woodvil_.)

JOHN (_still talking to himself_) This Lovel here's of a tough honesty, Would put the rack to the proof. He is not of that sort, Which haunt my house, snorting the liquors, And when their wisdoms are afloat with wine, Spend vows as fast as vapours, which go off Even with the fumes, their fathers. He is one, Whose sober morning actions Shame not his o'ernight's promises; Talks little, flatters less, and makes no promises; Why this is he, whom the dark-wisdom'd fate Might trust her counsels of predestination with, And the world be no loser.

Why should I fear this man?

(_Seeing Lovel_.) Where is the company gone?

LOVEL To see the fire-works, where you will be expected to follow. But I perceive you are better engaged.

JOHN I have been meditating this half-hour On all the properties of a brave friendship, The mysteries that are in it, the n.o.ble uses, Its limits withal, and its nice boundaries.

_Exempli gratia_, how far a man May lawfully forswear himself for his friend; What quant.i.ty of lies, some of them brave ones, He may lawfully incur in a friend's behalf; What oaths, blood-crimes, hereditary quarrels, Night brawls, fierce words, and duels in the morning, He need not stick at, to maintain his friend's honor, or his cause.

LOVEL I think many men would die for their friends.

JOHN Death! why 'tis nothing. We go to it for sport, To gain a name, or purse, or please a sullen humour, When one has worn his fortune's livery threadbare, Or his spleen'd mistress frowns. Husbands will venture on it, To cure the hot fits and cold shakings of jealousy.

A friend, sir, must do more.

LOVEL Can he do more than die?

JOHN To serve a friend this he may do. Pray mark me.

Having a law within (great spirits feel one) He cannot, ought not to be bound by any Positive laws or ord'nances extern, But may reject all these: by the law of friendship He may do so much, be they, indifferently, Penn'd statutes, or the land's unwritten usages, As public fame, civil compliances, Misnamed honor, trust in matter of secrets, All vows and promises, the feeble mind's religion, (Binding our morning knowledge to approve What last night's ignorance spake); The ties of blood withal, and prejudice of kin.

Sir, these weak terrors Must never shake me. I know what belongs To a worthy friendship. Come, you shall have my confidence.

LOVEL I hope you think me worthy.

JOHN You will smile to hear now-- Sir Walter never has been out of the island.

LOVEL You amaze me.

JOHN That same report of his escape to France Was a fine tale, forg'd by myself--Ha! ha!

I knew it would stagger him.

LOVEL Pray, give me leave.

Where has he dwelt, how liv'd, how lain conceal'd?

Sure I may ask so much.

JOHN From place to place, dwelling in no place long, My brother Simon still hath borne him company, ('Tis a brave youth, I envy him all his virtues.) Disguis'd in foreign garb, they pa.s.s for Frenchmen, Two Protestant exiles from the Limosin Newly arriv'd. Their dwelling's now at Nottingham, Where no soul knows them.

LOVEL Can you a.s.sign any reason, why a gentleman of Sir Walter's known prudence should expose his person so lightly?

JOHN I believe, a certain fondness, A child-like cleaving to the land that gave him birth, Chains him like fate.

LOVEL I have known some exiles thus To linger out the term of the law's indulgence, To the hazard of being known.

JOHN You may suppose sometimes They use the neighb'ring Sherwood for their sport, Their exercise and freer recreation.-- I see you smile. Pray now, be careful.

LOVEL I am no babbler, sir; you need not fear me.

JOHN But some men have been known to talk in their sleep, And tell fine tales that way.

LOVEL I have heard so much. But, to say truth, I mostly sleep alone.

JOHN Or drink, sir? do you never drink too freely?

Some men will drink, and tell you all their secrets.

LOVEL Why do you question me, who know my habits?

JOHN I think you are no sot, No tavern-troubler, worshipper of the grape; But all men drink sometimes, And veriest saints at festivals relax, The marriage of a friend, or a wife's birth-day.

LOVEL How much, sir, may a man with safety drink? (_Smiling_.)

JOHN Sir, three half pints a day is reasonable; I care not if you never exceed that quant.i.ty.

LOVEL I shall observe it; On holidays two quarts.

JOHN Or stay; you keep no wench?

LOVEL Ha!

JOHN No painted mistress for your private hours?

You keep no wh.o.r.e, sir?

LOVEL What does he mean?

JOHN Who for a close embrace, a toy of sin, And amorous praising of your worship's breath, In rosy junction of four melting lips, Can kiss out secrets from you?

LOVEL How strange this pa.s.sionate behaviour shews in you!

Sure you think me some weak one.

JOHN Pray pardon me some fears.

You have now the pledge of a dear father's life.

I am a son--would fain be thought a loving one; You may allow me some fears: do not despise me, If, in a posture foreign to my spirit, And by our well-knit friendship I conjure you, Touch not Sir Walter's life. (_Kneels_.) You see these tears. My father's an old man.

Pray let him live.

LOVEL I must be bold to tell you, these new freedoms Shew most unhandsome in you.

JOHN (_rising_) Ha! do you say so?

Sure, you are not grown proud upon my secret!

Ah! now I see it plain. He would be babbling.

No doubt a garrulous and hard-fac'd traitor-- But I'll not give you leave. (_Draws_.)

LOVEL What does this madman mean?

JOHN Come, sir; here is no subterfuge.

You must kill me, or I kill you.