The Works of Charles Lamb in Four Volumes, Volume 4Lamb, Charles
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The Works of Charles Lamb in Four Volumes, Volume 4
Lamb, Charles
English essays; English poetry; Short stories, English
_Lovel_. Why truly, gentlemen, as our kind host has been at the pains
to provide this spectacle, we can do no less than be present at it.
It will not take up much time. Every man may return fresh and
thirsting to his liquor.
_3rd Gent_. There's reason in what he says.
_2d Gent_. Charge on then, bottle in hand. There's husbandry in that.
[_They go out, singing. Only_ LOVEL _remains, who observes_ WOODVIL.
_John_ (_still talking to himself_).
This Lovel here's of a tough honesty,
Would put the rack to the proof. He is not of that sort
Which haunt my house, snorting the liquors,
And when their wisdoms are afloat with wine,
Spend vows as fast as vapors, which go off
Even with the fumes, their fathers. He is one,
Whose sober morning actions
Shame not his o'ernight's promises;
Talks little, flatters less, and makes no promises;
Why this is he, whom the dark-wisdom'd fate
Might trust her counsels of predestination with,
And the world be no loser.
Why should I fear this man? [_Seeing_ LOVEL.
Where is the company gone?
_Lovel_. To see the fireworks, where you will be expected to follow.
But I perceive you are better engaged.
_John_. I have been meditating this half hour,
On all the properties of a brave friendship,
The mysteries that are in it, the noble uses,
Its limits withal, and its nice boundaries.
_Exempli gratiâ_, how far a man
May lawfully forswear himself for his friend;
What quantity of lies, some of them brave ones,
He may lawfully incur in a friend's behalf!
What oaths, blood-crimes, hereditary quarrels,
Night brawls, fierce words, and duels in the morning,
He need not stick at, to maintain his friend's honor, or his cause.
_Lovel_. I think many men would die for their friends.
_John_. Death! why,'tis nothing. We go to it for sport,
To gain a name or purse, or please a sullen humor,
When one has worn his fortune's livery threadbare,
Or his spleen'd mistress frowns. Husbands will venture on it,
To cure the hot fits and cold shakings of jealousy.
A friend, sir, must do more.
_Lovel_. Can he do more than die?
_John_. To serve a friend this he may do. Pray, mark me.
Having a law within (great spirits feel one)
He cannot, ought not, to be bound by any
Positive laws or ord'nances extern,
But may reject all these: by the law of friendship
He may do so much, be they, indifferently,
Penn'd statutes, or the land's unwritten usages,
As public fame, civil compliances,
Misnamed honor, trust in matter of secrets,
All vows and promises, the feeble mind's religion,
(Binding our morning knowledge to approve
What last night's ignorance spake;)
The ties of blood withal, and prejudice of kin.
Sir, these weak terrors
Must never shake me. I know what belongs
To a worthy friendship. Come, you shall have my confidence.
_Lovel_. I hope you think me worthy.
_John_. You will smile to hear now--
Sir Walter never has been out of the island.
_Lovel_. You amaze me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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