VALENTINE    Are all these things perceived in me?

SPEED            They are all perceived without ye.

VALENTINE Without me? They cannot.

SPEED Without you? Nay, that’s certain, for without you were so simple, none else would. But you are so without these follies that these follies are within you, and shine through you like the water in an urinal, that not an eye that sees you but is a physician to comment on your malady.            (2.1.28-34)

Is it really so obvious that I’m in love, am I really behaving like that? asks Valentine—plaintively? incredulously? with annoyance or disbelief? a bit hurt? Are all these things perceived in me? (I thought I was being so secret and subtle etc etc, and also I am an Individual, not a Cliché!) Er yes, says Speed, they are all perceived without ye. He means, yes, this is the show you’re putting on, all these things are part of your external appearance, but Valentine is baffled (you’d think he’d be used to Speed’s incessant quibbling by now). Without me? they cannot. That doesn’t make sense, those things to be happening in my absence, without me? Speed can’t help himself. Without you? Oh yes they can—because he’s off again, on another riff—nay that’s certain, for without you were so simple—unless you were such a gormless idiot, none of this would be apparent at all. But you are so without these follies—you are so much on the outside of this foolishness, you’ve so internalised it, that these follies are within you, have become part of your very nature. And that means that your folly—in being in love—shines through you like the water in an urinal. You’re completely transparent, able to be diagnosed (such analysis was standard medical practice) as a LOVER by even the most casual observer, who is as a physician to comment on your malady.

You’d think that Valentine might be given pause by Speed’s disgustingly vivid bathos. But no…