PROS. Who, Giuliano?

BOB. Giuliano. Signior Prospero, I know not in what kind
you value me, but let me tell you this: as sure as God, I
do hold it so much out of mine honour and reputation, if I
should but cast the least regard upon such a dunghill of
flesh; I protest to you (as I have a soul to be saved) I
ne'er saw any gentlemanlike part in him: an there were no
more men living upon the face of the earth, I should not
fancy him, by Phoebus.

MAT. Troth, nor I, he is of a rustical cut, I know not how:
he doth not carry himself like a gentleman.

PROS. Oh, Signior Matheo, that's a grace peculiar but to a
few; "quos aequus amavit Jupiter."

MAT. I understand you, sir.

[ENTER LOR. JU. AND STEP.]

PROS. No question you do, sir: Lorenzo! now on my soul,
welcome; how dost thou, sweet rascal? my Genius! 'Sblood,
I shall love Apollo and the mad Thespian girls the better
while I live for this; my dear villain, now I see there's
some spirit in thee: Sirrah, these be they two I writ to
thee of, nay, what a drowsy humour is this now? why dost
thou not speak?

LOR. JU. Oh, you are a fine gallant, you sent me a rare