Dor. Let go;
You hurt me, Sir: fare well. Stay, is this Martius?
I will not tell my Lord; he'll swear I lye.
Doubt my fidelitie, before thy honor.
How hast thou vex'd the gods, that they would let thee
Thus violate friendship, hospitalitie,
And all the bounds of sacred pietie?
Sure thou but tri'st me out of love to him,
And wouldst reject me, if I did consent.
O Martius, Martius, wouldst thou in one minute,
Blast all thy Laurels, which so many years
Thou hast been purchasing with blood and sweat?
Hath Dorigen never been written, read,
Without the epithet of chast, chast Dorigen?
And wouldst thou fall upon her chastitie,
Like a black drop of ink, to blot it out?
When men shall read the records of thy valour,
Thy hitherto-brave virtue, and approach
(Highly content yet) to this foul assault
Included in this leaf, this ominous leaf,
They shall throw down the Book, and read no more,
Though the best deeds ensue, and all conclude,
That ravell'd the whole story, whose sound heart
(Which should have been) prov'd the most leprous part.
Mar. O! thou confut'st divinely, and thy words
Do fall like rods upon me; but they have
Such silken lines, and silver hooks, that I
Am faster snar'd: my love has ta'en such hold,
That (like two wrestlers) though thou stronger be,
And hast cast me, I hope to pull thee after.
I must, or perish.
Dor. Perish, Martius, then;
For I here vow unto the gods, These rocks,
These rocks we see so fix'd, shall be removed,
Made champion field, ere I so impious prove,
To stain my Lords bed with adulterous love.
Enter Valerius.
Val. The gods protect fair Dorigen.
Dor. Amen,
From all you wolvish Romanes. [Exit.
Val. Ha? what's this?
Still, brother, in your moods? O th[e]n my doubts
Are truths. Have at it: I must try a way
To be resolv'd.
Mar. How strangely dost thou look! what ailst thou?
Val. What ailst thou?