O good your grace, hear us! Hear the complaints

1.2.2296Of us poor men! O hear us! We are all

1.2.3297Undone! Good your honour, hear us.

Death encounter ‘em! Lucio, shut the door!

1.2.5300'Tis the plague of greatness, the curse

1.2.6301Of pomp, that in our darkest privacy, we must

1.2.7302Even public be to every manʼs affairs.

1.2.8303How now! All these saucy troops of brawling

1.2.9304Suitors attend on you, my glorious boy.

It is their humble skill not to arrive

1.2.11306Before your grace but by an advocate

1.2.12307A mediator blesséd in your eyes.

How apt am I to love! Yet now observe

1.2.14309Unkindness in my care and bitterness

1.2.15310In physic: I study how to make thee less

1.2.16311That I may make the more, and more my own.

1.2.17312Office and dignity are enemies

1.2.18313To health and ease. Respect grows tedious,

1.2.19314Observance troublesome, where ʼtis most due.

1.2.20315He that gives his soul no more employment

1.2.21316Than whatʼs her own may sleep within a drum,

1.2.22317While busy hearts, that love to undertake

1.2.23318Beyond their reach of years, are fane to use

1.2.24319Drowsy potions, yet watch the winter night

1.2.25320With more distinction than the parish clock.

1.2.26321Couldʼst thou resign thy titles and thy cares

1.2.27322To make me yet more capable of still

1.2.28323Enjoying thee?

My zeal unto myself forbids my speech,

1.2.30325Since if I make reply to this, I but

1.2.31326Disparage duty and consume my breath.

1.2.32327Where sight is young and clear, there spectacles

1.2.33328Are troublesome, and rather hide than show

1.2.34329The object. The most devout obedience,

1.2.35330Which I shall ever owe unto your grace,

1.2.36331Becomes nay heart much better than my tongue.

But yet observe, my Lucio,

1.2.38333Thʼ unkind tricks of nature: how we are fooled

1.2.39334By a religious constancy in love.

1.2.40335A princeʼs hate doth ruin where it falls,

1.2.41336But his affections warmeth where it shines

1.2.42337Until it kindle fire to scorch himself.

1.2.43338If we are subject to the sin of heaven –

1.2.44339Too much charity, extremity of love –

1.2.45340Let there be mercy shown in punishment.

1.2.46341Why is the corrupted use of royal love

1.2.47342Imputed to our charge, to our audit laid?

1.2.48343We that with all those organs furnished are,

1.2.49344All those faculties natural in men,

1.2.50345Yet limited in use of each! Prescribed

1.2.51346Our conversation by a saucy form

1.2.52347Of state. How can we choose, by this restraint,

1.2.53348But struggle more for liberty? Make choice

1.2.54349Of some one ear wherein to empty out our souls

1.2.55350When they are full of busy thoughts? Of plots

1.2.56351Abortive, crude and thin? ʼTis cheap and base

1.2.57352For majesty not to be singular

1.2.58353In all effects. O then, if I must give my heart

1.2.59354To the command of one, send him – sweet heaven! –

1.2.60355A modest appetite: teach him to know

1.2.61356The stomach sooner surfeits with too much

1.2.62357Than starves for lack of that supply

1.2.63358Which covetous ambition calleth want.

1.2.64359For when my friend begs, my bounty then

1.2.65360Concludes to make me poor before that he

1.2.66361Shall so unthrifty be of breath to ask in vain.

1.2.67362Distraction! Tameness! O my Lucio,

1.2.68363How canst thou conster this? After I have chid,

1.2.69364I seem to flatter thee.

I seem to flatter thee. My gracious lord —

Peace!

1.2.71367I will no more employ my memory

1.2.72368Thus to discourage thine. Whereʼs Foreste?

1.2.73369ʼTis fit he know you are not vigilant

1.2.74370In his behalf. Farelo de Sforza,

1.2.75371My old secretary, is newly dead.

1.2.76372The place is his. I shall expect no thanks

1.2.77373From you, not yet from him:

1.2.78374My bounty is requited in her choice.

Your grace will bring us both within the reach

1.2.80376Of public envy.

Of public envy. Thou now wouldʼst certify

1.2.81378His birth – obscure and base – discourageth

1.2.82379Such earnest help to his so great promotion.

1.2.83380Not a jot! Know, my boy, ʼtis the vulgar –

1.2.84381Not the royal – trade to patch up things,

1.2.85382Of seek to mend what was before of quality

1.2.86383Perfect enough itself. To make a man

1.2.87384Of nothing! Why, this same creation

1.2.88385Inclines a little near divinity:

1.2.89386Near the old performance, which from chaos

1.2.90387Drew this multitude of subtle forms.

Since you, the royal maker, do commend

1.2.92389The metal and your workmanship, it shows

1.2.93390Thereʼs little skill in those which envy him.

1.2.94391Foreste is your creature. Many times

1.2.95392I do acquaint him what the general voice

1.2.96393Doth urge in his disgrace. He laughs it out,

1.2.97394And swears he would not lose that privilege

1.2.98395Which nature gave him by her kind mistake

1.2.99396In his nativity, for the seaʼs worth;

1.2.100397As if, fromʼs issue, he could neʼer deserve

1.2.101398A monument, unless himself do hew

1.2.102399The stones whereof ʼtis built; unless he raise

1.2.103400His monument on a wart, his dignity

1.2.104401On poverty obscure and base.

We do affect his thoughts. Such industry

1.2.106403Proclaims him fit for high designs. Some men

1.2.107404Attend the talking drum, and riddle out

1.2.108405Their lives on earth with madnessʼ sophistry,

1.2.109406Calling their loss their gain, danger delight.

1.2.110407Some men converse with books, and melt the brain

1.2.111408In sullen study how to vindicate

1.2.112409The liberal arts. Those lose formality,

1.2.113410Then grow methodical, and die iʼthʼ dark.

1.2.114411Some practice rules of state, and suffer much

1.2.115412For honourʼs sake; nay, tread upon themselves

1.2.116413At first, to reach higher. Some pursue

1.2.117414The plough, and in their wholesome sweat do swim.

1.2.118415And some, that furnished are with nimbler souls,

1.2.119416Employ their times in wanton exercise:

1.2.120417Masques and revels, the compliments of love,

1.2.121418And love I find the easiest vanity.

[Aside] O gentle Corsa, make it so with me!

1.2.123420Fain would I, if I durst, reveal to him

1.2.124421The heat of my affection, and where ʼtis fixed.

Hark: sure the gallery door is left unlocked!

1.2.126423Are we debarred all place of privacy?

1.2.127424Nature in us hath lost her vulgar right.

1.2.128425A loud, bawling suitor doth not waken

1.2.129426Charity but deafen her.

1.2.130427A shame upon ‘em all! In, Lucio.

Heaven bless his grace!

Amen! And my lord the countʼs good honour.

Friend! Went the Duke this way?

Friend! Went the Duke this way? Here. This way.

Pray, show me him they call Signor Lucio

The count. Come, Iʼll show you him.

Follow, follow, follow!