Or if thou fear, fear passion; for the freshes
Of tenderness and motherly love will drown
The eye of judgment: yet, since even excess
Of the soft quality fits woman well,
I praise thee; nor would ask thee less to aid
With counsel, than in love to share my choice.
Tho’ weak thy hands to poise, thine eye may mark
This balance, how the good of all outweighs 980
The good of one or two, though these be us.
Let not reluctance shame the sacrifice