Part 12 (1/2)

Again, what earthy spirit but will attempt To taste the fruit of beauty's golden tree, When leaden sleep seals up the dragon's eyes?

Oh, beauty is a project of some power, Chiefly when opportunity attends her: She will infuse true motion in a stone, Put glowing fire in an icy soul, Stuff peasants' bosoms with proud Caesar's spleen, Pour rich device into an empty brain: Bring youth to folly's gate: there train him in, And after all, extenuate his sin.

Well, I will not go, I am resolved for that.

Go, carry it again: yet stay: yet do too, I will defer it till some other time.

[ENTER PISO.]

PIS. Sir, Signior Platano will meet you there with the bond.

THO. That's true: by Jesu, I had clean forgot it.

I must go, what's a clock?

PIS. Past ten, sir.

THO. 'Heart, then will Prospero presently be here too, With one or other of his loose consorts.

I am a Jew if I know what to say, What course to take, or which way to resolve.

My brain (methinks) is like an hour-gla.s.s, And my imaginations like the sands Run dribbling forth to fill the mouth of time, Still changed with turning in the ventricle.

What were I best to do? it shall be so.

Nay, I dare build upon his secrecy. Piso.

PIS. Sir.

THO. Yet now I have bethought me too, I will not.

Is Cob within?

PIS. I think he be, sir.

THO. But he'll prate too, there's no talk of him.

No, there were no course upon the earth to this, If I durst trust him; tut, I were secure, But there's the question now, if he should prove, Rimarum plenus, then, 'sblood, I were rook'd.

The state that he hath stood in till this present Doth promise no such change: what should I fear then?

Well, come what will, I'll tempt my fortune once.

Piso, thou mayest deceive me, but I think thou lovest me, Piso.

PIS. Sir, if a servant's zeal and humble duty may be term'd love, you are possest of it.

THO. I have a matter to impart to thee, but thou must be secret, Piso.

PIS. Sir, for that --

THO. Nay, hear me, man; think I esteem thee well, To let thee in thus to my private thoughts; Piso, it is a thing sits nearer to my crest, Than thou art 'ware of; if thou should'st reveal it --

PIS. Reveal it, sir?

THO. Nay, I do not think thou would'st, but if thou should'st --

PIS. Sir, then I were a villain: Disclaim in me for ever if I do.

THO. He will not swear: he has some meaning, sure, Else (being urged so much) how should he choose, But lend an oath to all this protestation?