Pet. Captain Junius,
Sweet captain, let me go with all celerity!
Things are not always one; and do not question,
Nor jeer, nor gibe: None of your doleful ditties,
Nor your sweet conversation; you will find then
I may be angered.

Jun. By no means, Petillius;
Anger a man that never knew passion?
’Tis most impossible: A noble captain,
A wise and generous gentleman?

Pet. Tom Puppy,
Leave this way to abuse me! I have found you,
But, for your mother’s sake, I will forgive you.
Your subtile understanding may discover,
As you think, some trim toy to make you merry,
Some straw to tickle you; but do not trust to’t;
You are a young man, and may do well; be sober,
Carry yourself discreetly.

Enter Decius, Demetrius, and Curius.

Jun. Yes, forsooth.

Dem. How does the brave Petillius?

Jun. Monstrous merry.
We two were talking what a kind of thing
I was when I was in love; what a strange monster
For little boys and girls to wonder at;
How like a fool I looked!

Dec. So they do all,
Like great dull slavering fools.

Jun. Petillius saw too.

Pet. No more of this; ’tis scurvy; peace!

Jun. How nastily,
Indeed how beastly, all I did became me!
How I forgot to blow my nose! There he stands,
An honest and a wise man; if himself
(I dare avouch it boldly, for I know it)
Should find himself in love—

Pet. I am angry.

Jun. Surely his wise self would hang his beastly self;
His understanding self so mawl his ass self—

Dec. He’s bound to do it; for he knows the follies, The poverties, and baseness, that belongs to’t;
He has read upon the reformations long.

Pet. He has so.

Jun. ’Tis true, and he must do’t: Nor is it fit indeed
Any such coward—

Pet. You’ll leave prating?

Jun. Should dare come near the regiments, especially
Those curious puppies (for believe there are such)
That only love behaviours: Those are dog-whelps,
Dwindle away because a woman dies well;
Commit with passions only; fornicate
With the free spirit merely. You, Petillius,
For you have long observed the world—

Pet. Dost thou hear?
I’ll beat thee damnably within these three hours!
Go pray; may be I’ll kill thee. Farewell, Jackdaws!

[Exit Petillius.

Dec. What a strange thing he’s grown!

Jun. I am glad he is so;
And stranger he shall be before I leave him.

Cur. Is’t possible her mere death—