Alber. By your favor but it was not, I conceive
T'was disparagement to my name, to have my widdow
Match with a Faulkeiners son, and yet beli've't
I love the youth still, and much pitty him.
I do remember at my going to Sea,
Upon a quarrel, and a hurt receiv'd
From young Mentivole, my rage so far
Oretopt my nobler temper, I gave charge
To have his hand cut off, which since I heard,
And to my comfort, brave Cesario,
Worthyly prevented.
Pros. And 'twas nobly done.
Albert Yet the revenge, for this intent of mine
Hath bred much slaughter in our families,
And yet my wife (which infinitely moans me)
Intends to marry my sole heir Clarissa
To the head branch of the other faction.
Pros. 'Tis the mean to work reconcilement.
Alber. Between whom?
Pros. Your self and the worthy Baptista.
Pros. O you have been of a noble and remarkable friendship,
And by this match 'tis generally in Florence
Hop'd, 'twill fully be reconcil'd; to me
'Twould be absolute content.
Julia. And to my self, I have main interest in it.
Alb. Noble Sir, you may command my heart to break for you
But never to bend that way; poor Cesario,
When thou put'st on thy mournfull willow-garland,
Thy enemy shall be suted (I do vow)
In the same livery, my Cesario
Loved as my foster child, though not my Son,
Which in some countryes formerly were barbarous,
Was a name held most affectionate; thou art lost,
Unfortunate young man, not only slighted
Where thou received'st thy breeding, but since scorn'd
I th' way of marriage, by the poor Bianca
The In-keepers daughter.