Phil. As far from your distrust, as bad ones are from truth.
She is in love with virtue: would not boast it,
But that her whole life is a well-writ story.
Where each word stands so well-plac'd, that it passes
Inquisitive detraction to correct.
She's modest, but not sullen, and loves silence;
Not that she wants apt words, for, when she speaks,
She inflames love with wonder; but because
She calls wise silence the soul's harmony.
She's truly chaste; yet such a foe to coyness,
The poorest call her courteous; and which is excellent,
Though fair and young, she shuns t' expose herself
To the opinion of strange eyes. She either seldom
Or never walks abroad but in your company;
And then with such sweet bashfulness, as if
She were venturing on crack'd ice; and takes delight
To step into the print your foot hath made,
And will follow you whole fields: so she will drive
Tediousness out of time with her sweet character.
And therefore, good my friend, forbear to try
The gold has pass'd the fire.
Lor. Thou foolish friend,
Beauty, like the herb larix, is cool i' th' water,
But hot i' th' stomach. Women are smooth flatterers,
But cunning injurers.
Phil. Thou wondrous yellow friend.
Temper an antidote with antimony,
And 'tis infectious: mix jealousy with marriage,
It poisons virtue: let the child feel the sting,
He'll fly the honeycomb. Has she one action
That can expose you to distrust?
Lor. O, when the Alexanders-leaf looks most green,
The sap is then most bitter. An approv'd appearance
Is no authentic instance: she that is lip-holy
Is many times heart-hollow. Here she comes,
Enter Abstemia.
A prayer-book in her hand! O hypocrisy!
How fell'st thou first in love with woman? wilt try again,
But this one time?
Phil. Condition'd you will stand
Ear-witness to our conference; that you may take
In at your ear a virtue that will teach
Your erring soul to wonder.
Lor. He would wittol me
With a consent to my own horns. I will.
I'll give thee a new occasion: there lurks
In woman's blood a vindicating spirit.
Abs. I came, sir, to give you notice,
Count Lodovico, Stroimo, Spinoso, and Pandulpho,
With the rest of the consilliadory, certify
They are setting forth to meet the duke your kinsman,
Returning from Venice.
Lor. O, there he has seen the duke your brother.