Mal. I cannot contain,—he saw thee not that left thee.
If there be wisdom, reason, honour, grace,
Of any foolishly-esteemèd virtue,
In giving o’er possession of such beauty,
Let me be vicious, so I may be loved.
Passion, I am thy slave; sweet, it shall be my grace,
That I account thy love my only virtue:
Shall I swear I am thy most vowèd servant?
Fra. Mine vowed? Go! go! go! I cannot more of
love. No! no! no! You bin all unconstant. O unfaithful men—tyrants—betrayers—de very enjoying us loseth us; and when you only ha’ made us hateful, you only hate us. O mine forsaken heart! 123
Mal. I must not rave. Silence and modesty two customary virtues. Will you be my mistress?
Fra. Mettres? Ha! ha! ha!
Mal. Will you lie with me?
Fra. Lie with you? O no; you men will out-lie any woman; fait, me no more can love.
Mal. No matter, let me enjoy your bed. 130
Fra. O! vile man, vat do you tinck on me? Do you take me to be a beast—a creature that for sense only will entertain love, and not only for love—love? O! brutish abomination!
Mal. Why, then I pray thee love, and with thy love enjoy me——