The noble Theodorus, whom thou knowest,
Lets all the world go by him and grows pale
For love, and pines, and wherefore?—For thy daughter,
Who knows not what love means, and cannot brook
Such brain-sick folly. Nay, be sure, good father,
I love not thus, and shall not.
Lama.
Well, well, girl,
Thou wilt know it yet. I fetter not thy choice,
But if thou couldst by loving bind together