cousin, if it please you, not else, I will enjoin you no further
than stands with your own consent, and the condition of a friend.

STEP. Why, cousin, you shall command me an 'twere twice so far as
Florence, to do you good; what, do you think I will not go with
you? I protest --

LOR. JU. Nay, nay, you shall not protest

STEP. By God, but I will, sir, by your leave I'll protest more to
my friend than I'll speak of at this time.

LOR. JU. You speak very well, sir.

STEP. Nay, not so neither, but I speak to serve my turn.

LOR. JU. Your turn? why, cousin, a gentleman of so fair sort as
you are, of so true carriage, so special good parts; of so dear and
choice estimation; one whose lowest condition bears the stamp of a
great spirit; nay more, a man so graced, gilded, or rather, to use
a more fit metaphor, tinfoiled by nature; not that you have a
leaden constitution, coz, although perhaps a little inclining to
that temper, and so the more apt to melt with pity, when you fall
into the fire of rage, but for your lustre only, which reflects as
bright to the world as an old ale-wife's pewter again a good time;
and will you now, with nice modesty, hide such real ornaments as
these, and shadow their glory as a milliner's wife doth her wrought
stomacher, with a smoky lawn or a black cyprus? Come, come; for
shame do not wrong the quality of your dessert in so poor a kind;
but let the idea of what you are be portrayed in your aspect, that