Mar. It comes in me; to be truth, I love her
(I'll go no farther for comparison)
As dear as he loves you.
Ism. How if she love not?
Mar. Tush: be that my pains: You know not what Art
I have those ways.
Ism. Beshrow you, you have practis'd upon me,
Well, speed me here, and you with your Ismenia.
Mar. Go, the condition's drawn, ready dated,
There wants but your hand to't.
Am. Truely you have taken great pains, Sir.
Mar. A friendly part, no more (sweet Beauty.)
Am. They are happy, Sir, have such friends as you are.
But do you know you have done well in this?
How will his Allies receive it? she (though I say't)
Is of no better bloud than I am.
Mar. There I leave it, I'm at farthest that way.
Ism. You shall extend your vows no larger now.
My heart calls you mine own: and that's enough.
Reason, I know, would have all yet conceal'd.
I shall not leave you unsaluted long
Either by Pen or Person.