Swear first in sooth,
By our past friendship and our bygone youth.
CAMILLA.
Soothly I swear by the pure law sincere
Of our past friendship, to sit down and hear—
Thy chidings, sure enough; to what a state
Hast thou reduced my hand in this debate
By thy fierce grasp!
ALBANIO.
To what a state hast thou
Reduced my soul by leaving me till now!
CAMILLA.
My golden clasp, if that be lost—woe's me!
Unlucky that I am! 'tis gone, I see,
Fallen in this fatal vale! what mischief more?
ALBANIO.
I should not wonder if it dropped before,
In the deep Vale of Nettles.