This disgrace makes thy cousin boil his heart

2.2.2686In his own blood.

In his own blood. He hath write a most pestilent libel,

2.2.3688Which must be sung all about the city

2.2.4689By one he calls his daw: a tall, big, fellow.

I know him. He sings like Phalarisʼs bull!

I supposed that first he would have sent him

2.2.7692A challenge.

A challenge. But thatʼs contingent now, Foreste

2.2.8694Being made secretary of state.

I have heard oʼthʼ new edict, which institutes

2.2.10696A mysterious toy iʼthʼ hatband, for those

2.2.11Of the faction.

Why about two days since, one of the sect

2.2.13698Sent me a challenge because my sister

2.2.14699Drunk his lordʼs health with her quoif on! Each hour

2.2.15700These giddy participles do embark

2.2.16701Themselves for duels. The one is a kin

2.2.17702To my honourable lady; Thʼother

2.2.18703To my very good lord.

There comes my cousin, chawing his lean heart.

Good morrow to the court satirist!

The world is altered, Dorido. Foreste

2.2.22707Is stepped beyond my reach. We cannot meet

2.2.23708In duel: The heralds stand between,

2.2.24709But my fine thrush can sing you a new libel.

We shall have your thrush in a cage shortly.

2.2.26711Remember who you deal withal.

Hang him! Dull, open slave! His thoughts may be

2.2.28713Discerned through shaving of a deal-board.

2.2.29714Iʼll sift and winnow him in an old hat!

Prithee, sweet Castruchio, leave thy barking.

2.2.31716ʼTwill be treason shortly for any man

2.2.32717To carry ears within three miles of thy tongue.

Why, signor, what faction are you of?

Not of your faction, sir, if none return

2.2.35720Unto the prison for your libelling.

2.2.36721You remember your Vices Stripped and Whipped?

2.2.37722Your trim Eclogues, the fulsome Satire too,

2.2.38723Written to his grace, wherein you flatter,

2.2.39724Whine, and damn yourself to get a pardon

2.2.40725For what seems there a resolute offence?

2.2.41726Satires are more useful now than ever;

2.2.42727Nor grieves it me to see the humour used,

2.2.43728But thus abused. To see a bard still reach

2.2.44729At holy bays! Passion oʼme! Iʼll tell thee:

2.2.45730Thy rhymes include not so much brains as would

2.2.46731Suffice to fill a cherrystone.

Youʼd fain make me angry.

Youʼd fain make me angry. Ay, with thyself.

And then thou spendʼst thy gall with more justice

2.2.49735Than when thou railʼst against Foreste.

Cry you mercy, precious cox. Hath Foreste

2.2.51737So great a share in your tongue, too? Sympathy

2.2.52738Is corrupted. Behold: society

2.2.53739Amongst the wicked, whilst a virtuous man

2.2.54740Is left alone to resist his bad fate.

2.2.55741Let him chide the fulsome age, rail against

2.2.56742The times aloud, though in a vault, or ‘tween

2.2.57743Two hills, he shall find no zealous echo

2.2.58744To second his bold language. When I die,

2.2.59745I die a martyr to the commonweal.

[To Borachio] Dull caitiff, leave these abortive provects

2.2.61748And talk in the newest fashion. Iʼll have

2.2.62749My very dog bark iʼthʼ courtly garb.

[To Cosimo] Step aside. They are as mad as thy cousin!

[To Borachio] The excrements and mere defects of nature

2.2.65752Shall be reduced to ornaments in me:

2.2.66753Iʼll feed upon the tongues of nightingales,

2.2.67754For so each fart I let will be a song —

[Mockingly] For the peripatetics, being butchers

2.2.69756Here in Siena —

[Continuing his obscure imagery] A palace hewn in an entire carbuncle.

2.2.71758Encircled with a moat that flows with lhasis —

[Also continuing his mockery] Derived their augury from the warm entrails

2.2.73760Of a calf.

[Noticing the eavesdroppers] Sir, these are some of those that laughed at ye

2.2.75762In the presence.

In the presence. At me? Thou liest! They laughed at thee.

Why then, the devil will neʼer give a man

2.2.77765Leisure to believe a truth.

[Presenting themselves] Signor Lothario, the great minion

2.2.79767To our Duke! I greet your health with all joy.

And I, with all humility.

And I, with all celerity.

[To Borachio] Hark, thou dull sinner! Is this real? Hah!

Sir, let him that hath a heart of his own t

2.2.84772Think what he list.

Do they adore or flout me now?

All is witchcraft. I know, when the moon winks

2.2.87775Thereʼs something inʼt besides an eclipse.

Miscreant! What suspicious follies

2.2.89777Dost thou create within that wooden skull?

2.2.90778And with what heathen phrase uttered? Know, dog,

2.2.91779If I employ my wrath —

Alas, sir: Iʼve more faults than misbelief.

2.2.93781Therefore, give me your blessing and let me

2.2.94782Go home in peace. ʼTis true, when the sky falls

2.2.95783We shall have larks. But let the weaker stomachs

2.2.96784Expect such curious meat. I can eat

2.2.97785Oats and garlic under my own roof.

How? Will Borachio leave the court?

What accident, of dire portent, is fallen?

Gentlemen, applaud my patience: because

2.2.101789He cannot furnish me with wholesome suits,

2.2.102790He doubts my power to get ‘em granted.

Why, we will furnish him with suits.

But wonʼt ye flout? And play the knave with one?

[As if offended] How? Knave? Was that the word?

Interpret the word as yourself shall please;

2.2.107795I scorn to be your dictionary.

2.2.108796Marry, come up: are your cares so tender?

2.2.109797I hope Iʼm a man, although a sinner.

Use no choler, amorous child. But if

2.2.111799Thou wants suits, thy lord, being near the Duke,

2.2.112800May furnish thee with —

Or methinks thou wouldʼst become a knighthood:

2.2.114802Get him to beg it for thee.

No, no. Hot words make but warm air. A fig

2.2.116804For a knight-errant, that hast a style, and neʼer a hedge.

Then get a patent to survey brine-pits,

2.2.118806Or else for casting ordnance in loam.

Or else search Saint Peterʼs patrimony:

2.2.120808Lay prebendaries are good, and simony

2.2.121809Is an old paradox.

Hold, hold!

2.2.123811Enough sufficeth all women but whores.

2.2.124812He that expects the morning, lengthens the night.

2.2.125813Therefore straightʼway let my lord get the Duke

2.2.126814To sign these patents. Which done,

2.2.127815Iʼll return to the wife of my bowels

2.2.128816And die for joy.

And die for joy. Why, this is fit, and requisite.

If signor Lothario do consent?

It is decreed.

Who would hasten time, when we may be old

2.2.132821Too soon? Let me take down a cushion and pray,

2.2.133822For I shall have more dignity than will suffice

2.2.134823To damn a monk.

Who could perish in a better cause?

Why, can I help it if a man be born

2.2.137826To offices? Or, as my master said,

2.2.138827Predestinate in the womb of greatness?

2.2.139828ʼTis not our faults: each man obeys his star

2.2.140829In spite of his teeth.

In spite of his teeth. All this is Alcoran.

One thing grieves me: Iʼve a bad memory

2.2.142832Already, and now ʼtwill be made worse.

How can preferment hurt thy memory?

O sir! Preferment makes a man forget

2.2.145835His dearest friends, nay his kindred too.

Look, thy masterʼs building more castles in the air.

He has intelligence from Spain, and fortifies,

2.2.148838To no purpose, ʼgainst the next spring.

All offices shall be sold iʼthʼ dark —

How? Grow not old in anotherʼs garment:

2.2.151841Sell whatʼs your own. Some of those offices

2.2.152842Are mine, by promise.

Still cross to my designs? Iʼll stretch your sinews.

Hold, signor Lothario, hold! Mercy

2.2.155845Becomes the powerful.

Let the devil take the knighthood and make

2.2.157847His dam a lady. Iʼll not be his ass,

2.2.158848That served for blows and provender.

Letʼs relieve Borachio, or all our comic scenes

2.2.160850Are at an end.