Jul. No, the strongest man
May have the grudging of an ague on him,
This is no more; let's go, I would fain be fit
To be thy friend again, for now I am no mans.
Ang. Go you, I dare not go, I tell you truly
Nor were it wise I should.
Jul. Why?
Ang. I am well,
And if I can, will keep my self so.
Jul. Ha? thou mak'st me smile, though I have little cause,
To see how prettily thy fear becomes thee;
Art thou not strong enough to see a woman?
Ang. Yes, twenty thousand: but not such a one
As you have made her: I'le not lye for th' matter:
I know I am frail, and may be cozen'd too
By such a Syren.
Jul. Faith thou shalt go, Angelo.
Ang. Faith but I will not; no I know how far Sir
I am able to hold out, and will not venture
Above my depth: I do not long to have
My sleep ta'ne from me, and go pulingly
Like a poor wench had lost her market-mony;
And when I see good meat, sit still and sigh,
And call for small beer; and consume my wit
In making Anagrams, and faithful posies;
I do not like that Itch, I am sure I had rather
Have the main pox, and safer.
Jul. Thou shalt go,
I must needs have thee as a witness with me
Of my repentance; as thou lov'st me go.
Ang. Well I will go, since you will have it so,
But if I prove a fool too, look to have me
Curse you continually, and fearfully.