Cesar. Canst thou love?
Bian. Love! Is there such a word in any Language
That carries honest sence?
Cesar. Never dwelt ignorance
In so sweet-shap't a building: love, Bianca,
Is that firm knot which ties two hearts in one:
Shall ours be tied so?
Bian. Use a plainer word,
My Lord. In stead of tyes, say marries hearts,
Then I may understand.
Cæsar. Their hearts are married
Whose enterchange of pleasures, and embraces,
Soft kisses, and the privacies of sweets,
Keeps constant league together, when temptation
Of great mens oathes and gifts, shall urge contempt,
Rather than batter resolution, novelty
Of sights, or taste of new delights in wantonness,
Breeds surfeit more than appetite in any
Reserv'd to noble vowes; my excellent Maid,
Live thou but true to me, and my contents,
Mine only, that no partner may partake
The treasure of those sweets thy youth yet glories in,
And I will raise thy lowness to abundance
Of all varieties, and more triumph
In such a Mistris, than great Princes doating
On truth-betraying Wives.
Bian. Thus to yield up then
The cottage of my virtue, to be swallow'd
By some hard-neighbouring Landlord, such as you are,
Is in effect to love, a Lord so vicious!
O where shall innocence find some poor dwelling,
Free from temptations tyranny.
Cesar. Nay prethee.
Byan. Gay clothes, high feeding, easie beds of lust,
Change of unseemly sights; with base discourse,
Draw curses on your Pallaces; for my part,
This I will be confirm'd in, I will eate
The bread of labour, know no other rest
Than what is earn'd from honest pains, ere once more
Lend ear to your vile toyles; Sir, would you were
As noble in desires, as I could be in knowing virtue.
Pray do not afflict a poor soul thus.
Cesar. I swear —— to me?— [Bianca steales off.
Enter a Gentleman.