Mass.[229] So fell the Trojan wanderer on the Greek,
And bore away his ravish’d prize to Troy.
For such a beauty, brighter than his Danae,[230]
Jove should (methinks) now come himself again. 70
Lovely Isabella, I confess me mortal—
Not worthy to serve thee in thought, I swear;
Yet shall not this same overflow of favour
Diminish my vow’d duty to your beauty.
Isa. Your love, my lord, I blushingly proclaim it,
Hath power to draw me through a wilderness,
Were ’t armed with furies, as with furious beasts.
Boy, bid our train be ready; we’ll to horse.
[Exit Page.
My lord, I should say something, but I blush;
Courting is not befitting to our sex. 80
Mass. I’ll teach you how to woo. Say you have loved me long,
And tell me that a woman’s feeble tongue
Was never tuned unto a wooing-string;
Yet for my sake you will forget your sex,
And court my love with strain’d immodesty:
Then bid me make you happy with a kiss.
Isa. Sir, though women do not woo, yet for your sake
I am content to leave that civil custom,
And pray you kiss me.
Mass. Now use some unexpected ambages[231] 90
To draw me further into Vulcan’s net.
Isa. You love not me so well as I love you.
Mass. Fair lady, but I do.
Isa. Then show your love.