+Lor.+ I would appear no satire. And for this man (how fain I would call him friend!) I appeal to the whole state, if at the fight Betwixt Biserta galleys and your grace, Wherein you pleas'd to send me general there, That he deserv'd (let me not take from him His merit's meet confession) but I was there, The man (the erring man) that crown'd his merit With approbation and reward; brought him home, Preferr'd him to those graces you heap'd on him: Wore him a neighbour to my heart, as lovers Wear jewels, left by their dead friends. I lock'd him Into my heart, and double-barr'd him there With reason and opinion: his extremities Fasten'd me more unto him, whilst, like an arch Well-built, by how much the more weight I bore, I stood[130] the stronger under him; so lov'd him, That in his absence still mine ear became A sanctuary to his injur'd name. +Ver.+ And what from hence infer you? +Lor.+ That 'twas base, Base in the depth of baseness, for this wife So honour'd and this smooth friend so belov'd To conspire betwixt them my dishonour. +Ver.+ How? +Lor.+ To stain my sheets with lust, a minute's theft; To brand perpetually three faces: a husband's, A wife's, and friend's. +Abs.+ O good my lord, Cast out this devil from you. +Lor.+ O good my lady, Keep not the devil within you, but confess. +Phil.+ Hear me, great sir; I will confess, Lorenzo, And print thee down the fool of passion. +Spin.+ Speak, sir. +Phil.+ 'Tis true, this boasting man did thus erect me In his opinion, plac'd me in his love, Grac'd me with courtesies: O the craft of jealousy! As boys, to take the bird, about the pit Cast wheat and chaff, contriving a neat train To entice her to her ruin--so this friend, Falser than city-oaths, it is not doubted, Having so far endear'd me, when he came To enjoy a fair wife, guess'd it impossible For me to share with him in all things else, And not in her; for fair wives oft, we see, Strike the discord in sweet friendship's harmony: And having no way to ensnare me so, To separate our loves, he seriously Woo'd me to try his wife. +Lor.+ 'Tis false.