Cast. How is this French man chang'd Astorius!
Some sullen discontent possesses him,
That makes him envy, what he heretofore
Did most ingeniously but emulate.
Mount. Oh furious desire, how like a whirl-wind
Thou hurriest me beyond mine honors point!
Out of my heart, base lust, or heart, I vow
Those flames that heat me thus, I'll burn thee in.
Ast. Do' ye observe him?
Mount. What news of the Dane,
That valiant Captain Norandine?
Cast. He fights still,
In view oth' Town; he playes the devil with 'em,
And they the Turks with him.
Mount. They'r well met then, 'twere sin to sever 'em
Pish—woman.—Memory—
Would one of ye would leave me:
Ast. Six fresh Gallies
I in St. Angelo from the promontory
This morne descride, making a Girdle for him,
But our great Master doth intend relief
This present meeting: will you walk along?
Mount. Humh—I have read, Ladies enjoy'd, have been
The gulphs of worthiest men, buried their names,
Their former valor, bounty, beauty, virtue,
And sent 'em stinking to untimely graves.
I that cannot enjoy, by her disdain,
Am like to prove as wretched; woman then
Checking or granting, is the grave of men.
Ast. He's saying of his prayers sure.
Cast. Will you go Sir?