Evan. Can he weep that's a stranger to my story?
And I stand still and look on? Sir, I thank ye;
If noble spirits after their departure,
Can know, and wish, certain his soul gives thanks too;
There are your tears again, and when yours fail, Sir,
Pray ye call to me, I have some store to lend ye. Your name?
Val. Urbino.
Evan. That I may remember,
That little time I have to live, your friendships,
My tongue shall study both.
Fred. Do you come hither, only to tell this story, Prince Urbino?
Val. My business now is, Sir, to woo this Lady.
Evan. Blessing defend ye; do you know the danger?
Val. Yes, and I fear it not, danger's my play-fellow,
Since I was man 'thas been my best companion,
I know your doom, 'tis for a Moneth you give her,
And then his life you take that marries her.
Fred. 'Tis true, nor can your being born a Prince,
If you accept the offer, free you from it.
Val. I not desire it, I have cast the worst,
And even that worst to me is many blessings;
I lov'd my friend, not measur'd out by time,
Nor hired by circumstance of place and honour,
But for his wealthy self and worth I lov'd him,
His mind and noble mold he ever mov'd in,
And wooe his friend because she was worthy of him,
The only relique that he left behind, Sir;
To give his ashes honour, Lady take me,
And in me keep Valerio's love alive still,
When I am gone, take those that shall succeed me,
Heaven must want light, before you want a Husband,
To raise up heirs of love and noble memory,
To your unfortunate—
Evan. Am I still hated? hast thou no end, O fate, of my affliction?
Was I ordain'd to be a common Murdress?
And of the best men too? Good Sir—