FIRST FRIEND.
Yes.
DAUGHTER.
But she shall never have him, tell her so,
For a trick that I know; you’d best look to her,
For if she see him once, she’s gone, she’s done,
And undone in an hour. All the young maids
Of our town are in love with him, but I laugh at ’em
And let ’em all alone. Is ’t not a wise course?
FIRST FRIEND.
Yes.
DAUGHTER.
There is at least two hundred now with child by him—
There must be four; yet I keep close for all this,
Close as a cockle; and all these must be boys
He has the trick on ’t; and at ten years old
They must be all gelt for musicians
And sing the wars of Theseus.
SECOND FRIEND.
This is strange.
DAUGHTER.
As ever you heard, but say nothing.
FIRST FRIEND.
No.
DAUGHTER.
They come from all parts of the dukedom to him.
I’ll warrant ye, he had not so few last night
As twenty to dispatch. He’ll tickle ’t up
In two hours, if his hand be in.
JAILER.
She’s lost
Past all cure.
BROTHER.
Heaven forbid, man!