Gen. We must be heard.
Cla. We will be heard
Vitelli, look, see Clara on her knees
Imploring thy compassion: Heaven, how sternly
They dart their emulous eyes, as if each scorn'd
To be behind the other in a look!
Mother, death needs no Sword here: oh my Sister
(Fate fain would have it so) persuade, entreat,
A Ladies tears are silent Orators
(Or should be so at least) to move beyond
The honest tongu'd-Rhetorician:
Why will you fight? why do's an uncles death
Twenty year old, exceed your love to me
But twenty days? whose forc'd cause, and fair manner
You could not understand, only have heard.
Custom, that wrought so cunningly on nature
In me, that I forgot my sex, and knew not
Whether my body female were, or male,
You did unweave, and had the power to charm
A new creation in me, made me fear
To think on those deeds I did perpetrate,
How little power though you allow to me
That cannot with my sighs, my tears, my prayers
Move you from your own loss, if you should gain.
Vit. I must forget you Clara, 'till I have
Redeem'd my unkles blood, that brands my face
Like a pestiferous Carbuncle: I am blind
To what you do: deaf to your cries: and Marble
To all impulsive exorations.
When [o]n this point, I have perch'd thy fathers soul,
I'll tender thee this bloody reeking hand
Drawn forth the bowels of that murtherer:
If thou canst love me then, I'll marry thee,
And for thy father lost, get thee a Son;
On no condition else.
Assist. Most barbarous.
Say. Savage.
Anast. Irreligious.
Gen. Oh Lucio!
Be thou merciful: thou bear'st fewer years,
Art lately wean'd from soft eff[e]minacy,
A maidens manners, and a maidens heart
Are neighbors still to thee: be then more mild,
Proceed not to this combat; be'st thou desperate
Of thine own life? yet (dearest) pitty mine
Thy valour's not thine own, I gave it thee,
These eyes begot it, this tongue bred it up,
This breast would lodge it: do not use my gifts
To mine own ruine: I have made thee rich,
Be not so thankless, to undo me for't.
Luc. Mistriss, you know I do not wear a vein.
I would not rip for you, to do you service:
Life's but a word, a shadow, a melting dream,
Compar'd to essential, and eternal honor.
Why, would you have me value it beyond
Your b[r]other: if I first cast down my sword
May all my body here, be made one wound,
And yet my soul not find heaven thorough it.
Alv. You would be catter-walling too, but peace,
Go, get you home, and provide dinner for
Your Son, and me: wee'll be exceeding merry:
Oh Lucio, I will have thee cock of all
The proud Vitellies that do live in Spain:
Fie, we shall take cold: hunch:——I am hoarse
Already.
Lam. How your Sister whets my spleen!
I could eat Lucio now: