Fred. But yet not this, nor my despight to Laura,
Shall make me out of love with Life,
Whilst I have youthful Fires about my Heart:
—Yet I must fight with Curtius,
And so chastise the Pride of that fond Maid,
Whose saucy Virtue durst controul my Flame.
—And yet I love her not as I do Cloris;
But fain I would have overcome that Chastity,
Of which the foolish Beauty boasts so.
Clo. Curtius, I thank thee, now I do believe thee.