And we who live there, move in. Thus with me;
This lady I have often seen before,
And, as you say, was ne’er a sigh the worse,
Until to-day; when, whether she more fair,
Or I less blind, I know not—only know
That she has slain me; though to you alone
Of all my friends I would my passion own.
Ar. Much thanks; yet I must wonder, good my lord,
First, that in all your commerce with Don Cupid
You never, I think, dealt seriously till now.