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And perilous to ourselves;

CURIO.

These are too violent,

but I will fit

Our revenge to its other half. Sir Lycius now
Must have the green eye set in his head, and then
They'll worry each other's hearts without our help.
Julius or Apollonius will be our ready organs
To draw his ear.

GALLO.

"Tis plausible, and cannot fail to part 'em,
And when he has shaken her from off his bough
It needs she must fall to us.

CURIO.

I wonder where

That poor sick fool Mercutius is gone?

He hath a chance now.

GALLO.

Methought I glanced him

Below, and forsooth, disguised as a serving-man;

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APOLLONIUS.

But not in the same sense

JULIUS.

No, not exactly.

You take that literal, which I interpret

But as a parable—a figure feigned

By the elder sages (much inclined to mark
Their subtle meanings in dark allegories)
For those poisonous natures-those bewitching sins
That armed and guarded with a woman's husk,
But viperous within, seduce young hearts,

And sting where they are cherished

APOLLONIUS.

Your guess is shrewd ;

Nay, excellent enough to have been my own.
But, hark you, I have read in elder oracles

Than ever you will quote, the fact which backs me.
In Greece, in the midst of Greece, it hath been known,
And attested upon oath, i' the faith of multitudes,
That such true snakes have been-real hissing serpents,
Though outwardly like women.

With one of such, a youth, a hopeful youth,
Sober, discreet, and able to subdue

His passions otherwise-even like our Lycius-
For a fortnight lived, in a luxury of wealth,
Till suddenly she vanished, palace and all,
Like the shadow of a cloud.

JULIUS.

The dainty fable!

But now unto the proof. Methinks this sounds

Like a real door (knocking); a cloud scarce wars so,

But when Jove strikes it with a thunderbolt.

I'll tell you, sir,

She is a wanton, and that's quite enough

To perish a world of wealth.

Is your lady now within?

[Picus comes to the door.

Ho, sirrah! fellow!

PICUS.

No, sir, she's out.

Something hath put her out-she will see nobody.
She's ill, she's grievous bad—her head won't bear

The rout of company.

APOLLONIUS.

Why, then, I think

[A loud shout within.

The medical conclave might observe more quiet.

Look, knave! are these her grave, her learned physicians?

Well met, sirs.

[Another shout, and CURIO, etc., issue forth.

CURIO.

That's as may be. Ha! old mastiff!

Go to your kennel.

JULIUS.

You are just in time, sirs,

To settle our dispute: we have a gage on't,

The sophist here and I.

There is one lives in that house-(pointing to LAMIA'S)

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She was kind enough, for our poor sakes, to send

One Lycius, her late suitor, on an errand
That will make him footsore.

CURIO.

Yes, a sort of summons

Cunningly forged to bid him haste to his father,
Who lay in the jaws of death. Lord, how he'll swear
To find the old cock quite well!

JULIUS.

This is too true. [To APOLLONIUS.

I left our father but this very morn

The halest of old men. He was then on his way
Toward this city, on some state affair.

They'll encounter upon the road!

APOLLONIUS.

Here is some foul and double damned deception.

[LAMIA, by signs, assents to this reflection.

I'll catechise myself. Here, sir-you-you

[TO CURIO.

Who have gazed upon this witch, touched her, and talked

with her,

How know you she is woman, flesh and blood,
True clay and mortal lymph, and not a mockery
Made up of infernal elements of magic?
Canst swear she is no cloud- no subtle ether-
No fog, bepainted with deluding dyes—
No cheating underplot-no covert shape,
Making a filthy masquerade of nature ?
I say, how know ye this?

CURIO.

How? by my senses.

If I nipped her cheek, till it brought the white and red,

I wot she is no fog.

APOLLONIUS.

Fie on the senses!

What are the senses but our worst arch-traitors ?
What is a madman but a king betrayed

By the corrupted treason of his senses?
His robe a blanket, and his sceptre a straw,
His crown his bristled hair.

Fie on the shallow senses !

What doth swear
Such perjuries as the senses?-what give birth
To such false rumors, and base verdicts render
In the very spite of truth? Go to: thy senses
Are bond-slaves, both to madness and to magic,
And all the mind's disease. I say the senses
Deceive thee, though they say a stone's a stone.
And thou wilt swear by them an oath, forsooth,
And say the outer woman is utter woman,
And not a whit a snake! Hark! there's m
Hark! there's my answer.

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There's one I know in her house,

By name Mercutius, a most savage fellow :
I commend ye to his wrath.

[Exeunt CURIO, GALLO, etc.

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