To whip a knave, sir, or an honest man!
A wise man or a fool--atone for wrong,
Or double the amount on't! Master Walter,
Touching your ward, if wrong is done, I think
On my side lies the grievance. I would not say so
Did I not think so. As for love--look, sir,
That hand's a widower's, to its first mate sworn
To clasp no second one. As for amends, sir,
You're free to get them from a man in whom
You've been forestalled by fortune, for the spite
Which she has vented on him, if you still
Esteem him worth your anger. Please you read
That letter. Now, sir, judge if life is dear
To one so much a loser.

Wal. What, all gone!
Thy cousin living they reported dead!

Clif. Title and land, sir, unto which add love!
All gone, save life and honour, which, ere I'll lose,
I'll let the other go.

Wal. We're public here,
And may be interrupted. Let us seek
Some spot of privacy. Your letter, sir.

[Gives it back.]

Though fortune slights you, I'll not slight you; not
Your title or the lack of it I heed.