+Ant.+ Fire casts the bravest heat in coldest weather: I'll try how ardently you burn; for know, Upon my faith, and as I am a gentleman, I have in the next room, and in the custody Of a true friend, the man that did the deed You stand accus'd for. +Abs.+ Hark there, Lorenzo! +Lor.+ Will you not let him go, sir? +Ant.+ That's in suspense. But, mistress, you did say, You durst eat coals with Portia, to redeem The infinitely lov'd life of your husband. +Abs.+ And still [do] strongly protest it. +Lor.+ O my Abstemia! +Ant.+ You shall redeem him at an easier rate: I have the murderer, you see, in hold. +Lor.+ And we are bless'd in your discovery of him. +Ant.+ If you will give consent that I shall taste That sense-bereaving pleasure so familiar Unto your happy husband---- +Abs.+ How? +Ant.+ Pray, hear me: Then I will give this fellow up to the law. If you deny, horses stand ready for us, A bark for transportation; where we will live, Till law by death hath sever'd ye. +Lor.+ But we will call for present witness. +Ant.+ Look ye---- [_Shows the pistol._ Experienc'd navigators still are fitted For every weather. 'Tis almost past call To reach the nimblest ear: yet but offer it, I part ye presently for ever. Consider it: The enjoying him thou so entirely lov'st All thy life after; that when mirth-spent time Hath crown'd your heads with honour, you may sit And tell delightful stories of your loves; And when ye come to that poor minute's 'scape Crowns my desire, ye may let that slip by, Like water that ne'er meets the miller's eye. Compare but this to th' soon-forgotten pleasure Of a pair of wealthy minutes. The thriftiest[173] lapidary Knows the most curious jewel takes no harm For one day's wearing. Could you, sir (did your eye Nor see it worn), your wife having lent your cloak (If secretly return'd and folded up)-- Could you conceive, when you next look'd upon't, It had neatly furnish'd out a poor friend's want? Be charitable, and think on't. +Lor.+ Dost hear, Abstemia? O, shall we part for ever, when a price So poor might be our freedom? +Abs.+ Now, goodness guard ye! Where learn't you, sir, this language? +Lor.+ Of true love. You did but now profess that you would die To save my life; and now, like a forward chapman, Catch'd at thy word, thou givest back, asham'd To stand this easy proffer. +Abs.+ Could you live, And know yourself a cuckold? +Ant.+ What a question's that! Many men cannot live without the knowledge. How can ye tell Whether she seems thus to respect your honour, But to stay till the law has chok'd you? It may be then she will do't with less entreaty. +Lor.+ Ay, there, there 'tis.