SCUD. How sweetly does your friendship play with mine, And with a simple subtlety steals my heart Out of my bosom. By the holiest love That ever made a story, you're a man With all good so replete, that I durst trust you Ev'n with this secret, were it singly mine. NEV. I do believe you. Farewell, worthy friend. SCUD. Nay, look you; this same fashion does not please me: You were not wont to make your visitation So short and careless. NEV. 'Tis your jealousy That makes you think so; for, by my soul, You have given me no distaste by keeping from me All things that might be burthenous, and oppress me. In troth, I am invited to a wedding, And the morn faster goes away from me, Than I go toward it; and so, good morrow. SCUD. Good morrow, sir: think I durst show it you. NEV. Now, by my life, I not desire it, sir, Nor ever lov'd these prying, listening men, That ask of others' states and passages: Not one among a hundred but proves false, Envious, and slanderous, and will cut that throat He twines his arms about. I love that poet, That gave us reading[11] not to seek ourselves Beyond ourselves. Farewell. SCUD. You shall not go: I cannot now redeem the fault I have made To such a friend, but in disclosing all. NEV. Now, if you love me, do not wrong me so. I see you labour with some serious thing, And think (like fairy's treasure) to reveal it, Will cause it vanish; and yet to conceal it, Will burst your breast: 'tis so delicious, And so much greater than the continent. SCUD. O! you have pierc'd my entrails with your words, And I must now explain all to your eyes. Read, and be happy in my happiness. NEV. Yet think on't: keep thy secret and thy friend Sure and entire. O, give not me the means To become false hereafter! or thyself A probable reason to distrust thy friend, Though he be ne'er so true. I will not see't. SCUD. I die, by heaven, if you deny again. I starve for counsel: take it: look upon it. If you do not, it is an equal plague, As if it had been known and published. For God's sake, read! but with this caution-- By this right hand, by this yet unstain'd sword. Were you my father flowing in these waves, Or a dear son exhausted out of them, Should you betray this soul of all my hopes, Like the two brethren (though love made 'em stars) We must be never more seen both together.[12] NEV. I read it fearless of the forfeiture; Yet warn you, be as cautelous not to wound My integrity with doubting[13] likelihoods, From misreport; but first exquire the truth. [_Legit_ NEVILL, SCUDMORE _aliquando respiciens_.