Cel. But a little.
Dem. Prethee farewel, and be not doubtfull of me.
Cel. I would not have ye hurt: and ye are so ventrous— But good sweet Prince preserve your self, fight nobly, But do not thrust this body, ’tis not yours now, ’Tis mine, ’tis only mine: do not seek wounds, Sir, For every drop of blood you bleed—
Dem. I will Celia, I will be carefull.
Cel. My heart, that loves ye dearly.
Dem. Prethee no more, we must part: [Drums a March. Hark, they march now.
Cel. Pox on these bawling Drums: I am sure you’l kiss me, But one kiss? what a parting’s this?
Dem. Here take me, And do what thou wilt with me, smother me; But still remember, if your fooling with me, Make me forget the trust—
Cel. I have done: farewel Sir, Never look back, you shall not stay, not a minute.
Dem. I must have one farewel more.
Cel. No, the Drums beat; I dare not slack your honour; not a hand more, Only this look; the gods preserve, and save ye.
ACTUS SECUNDUS. SCENA PRIMA.
Enter Antigonus, Carinthus, Timon.
Ant. What, have ye found her out?
Char. We have hearkned after her.
Ant. What’s that to my desire?
Char. Your grace must give us time, And a little means.
Tim. She is sure a stranger, If she were bred or known here—
Ant. Your dull endeavours Enter Menippus. Should never be employ’d. Welcom Menippus.
Men. I have found her Sir, I mean the place she is lodg’d in; her name is Celia, And much adoe I had to purchase that too.
Ant. Dost think Demetrius loves her?
Men. Much I fear it, But nothing that way yet can win for certain. I’le tell your grace within this hour.
Ant. A stranger?
Men. Without all doubt.
Ant. But how should he come to her?
Men. There lies the marrow of the matter hid yet.
Ant. Hast thou been with thy wife?
Men. No Sir, I am going to her.
Ant. Go and dispatch, and meet me in the garden, And get all out ye can. [Exit.
Men. I’le doe my best Sir. [Exit.
Tim. Blest be thy wife, thou wert an arrant ass else.
Char. I, she is a stirring woman indeed: There’s a brain Brother.