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 pass 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 assign 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.