Florence. A Room in the Widow’s House. | |
| |
Enter BERTRAM and DIANA. | |
| Ber. They told me that your name was Fontibell. | |
| Dia. No, my good lord, Diana. | 4 |
| Ber. Titled goddess; | |
| And worth it, with addition! But, fair soul, | |
| In your fine frame hath love no quality? | |
| If the quick fire of youth light not your mind, | 8 |
| You are no maiden, but a monument: | |
| When you are dead, you should be such a one | |
| As you are now, for you are cold and stern; | |
| And now you should be as your mother was | 12 |
| When your sweet self was got. | |
| Dia. She then was honest. | |
| Ber. So should you be. | |
| Dia. No: | 16 |
| My mother did but duty; such, my lord, | |
| As you owe to your wife. | |
| Ber. No more o’ that! | |
| I prithee do not strive against my vows. | 20 |
| I was compell’d to her; but I love thee | |
| By love’s own sweet constraint, and will for ever | |
| Do thee all rights of service. | |
| Dia. Ay, so you serve us | 24 |
| Till we serve you; but when you have our roses, | |
| You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves | |
| And mock us with our bareness. | |
| Ber. How have I sworn! | 28 |
| Dia. ’Tis not the many oaths that make the truth, | |
| But the plain single vow that is vow’d true. | |
| What is not holy, that we swear not by, | |
| But take the Highest to witness: then, pray you, tell me, | 32 |
| If I should swear by God’s great attributes | |
| I lov’d you dearly, would you believe my oaths, | |
| When I did love you ill? this has no holding, | |
| To swear by him whom I protest to love, | 36 |
| That I will work against him: therefore your oaths | |
| Are words and poor conditions, but unseal’d; | |
| At least in my opinion. | |
| Ber. Change it, change it. | 40 |
| Be not so holy-cruel: love is holy; | |
| And my integrity ne’er knew the crafts | |
| That you do charge men with. Stand no more off, | |
| But give thyself unto my sick desires, | 44 |
| Who then recover: say thou art mine, and ever | |
| My love as it begins shall so persever. | |
| Dia. I see that men make ropes in such a scarr | |
| That we’ll forsake ourselves. Give me that ring. | 48 |
| Ber. I’ll lend it thee, my dear; but have no power | |
| To give it from me. | |
| Dia. Will you not, my lord? | |
| Ber. It is an honour ’longing to our house, | 52 |
| Bequeathed down from many ancestors, | |
| Which were the greatest obloquy i’ the world | |
| In me to lose. | |
| Dia. Mine honour’s such a ring: | 56 |
| My chastity’s the jewel of our house, | |
| Bequeathed down from many ancestors, | |
| Which were the greatest obloquy i’ the world | |
| In me to lose. Thus your own proper wisdom | 60 |
| Brings in the champion honour on my part | |
| Against your vain assault. | |
| Ber. Here, take my ring: | |
| My house, mine honour, yea, my life, be thine, | 64 |
| And I’ll be bid by thee. | |
| Dia. When midnight comes, knock at my chamber-window: | |
| I’ll order take my mother shall not hear. | |
| Now will I charge you in the band of truth, | 68 |
| When you have conquer’d my yet maiden bed, | |
| Remain there but an hour, nor speak to me. | |
| My reasons are most strong; and you shall know them | |
| When back again this ring shall be deliver’d: | 72 |
| And on your finger in the night I’ll put | |
| Another ring, that what in time proceeds | |
| May token to the future our past deeds. | |
| Adieu, till then; then, fail not. You have won | 76 |
| A wife of me, though there my hope be done. | |
| Ber. A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee. [Exit. | |
| Dia. For which live long to thank both heaven and me! | |
| You may so in the end. | 80 |
| My mother told me just how he would woo | |
| As if she sat in ’s heart; she says all men | |
| Have the like oaths: he had sworn to marry me | |
| When his wife’s dead; therefore I’ll lie with him | 84 |
| When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braid, | |
| Marry that will, I live and die a maid: | |
| Only in this disguise I think’t no sin | |
| To cozen him that would unjustly win. [Exit. | 88 |
