Ant. Not lost? why, all the world's a wilderness:
Some places peopled more by braver beasts
Than others are: But faces, faces (man)
May a man be caught with faces?
Mar. Without wonder,
'Tis odds against him: May not a good face
Lead a man about by th' nose? 'las,
The nose is but a part against the whole.
Ant. But is it possible that two faces
Should be so twin'd in form, complexion,
Figure, aspect? that neither wen, nor mole,
The Table of the brow, the eyes lustre,
The lips cherry; neither the blush nor smile
Should give the one distinction from the other?
Does Nature work in molds?
Mar. Altogether.
We are all one mold, one dust.
Ant. Thy reason's moldie.
I speak from the Form, thou the Matter.
Why? was't not ever one of Natures Glories,
Nay, her great piece of wonder, that amongst
So many millions millions of her works
She left the eye distinction, to cull out
The one from th'other; yet all one name, the face?
Mar. You must compare 'em by some other part
Of the body, if the face cannot do't.
Ant. Didst ask her name?
Mar. Yes, and who gave it her?
And what they promis'd more, besides a spoon,
And what Apostles picture: she is christned too,
In token wherefore she is call'd Isabella,
The daughter of a Countrey plow-swain by:
If this be not true, she lies.
Ant. She cannot;
It would be seen a blister on her lip,
Should falshood touch it, it is so tender:
Had her name held, 't had been Ismenia,
And not another of her name.
Mar. Shall I speak?