Chamont!
Cham. My lord, may't prove not an unlucky omen!
Many I see are waiting round about you,
And I am come to ask a blessing too.
Acast. Mayst thou be happy!
Cham. Where?
Acast. In all thy wishes.
Cham. Confirm me so, and make this fair one mine.
I am unpractised in the trade of courtship,
And know not how to deal love out with art:
Onsets in love seem best like those in war,
Fierce, resolute, and done with all the force;
So I would open my whole heart at once,
And pour out the abundance of my soul.
Acast. What says Serina? Canst thou love a soldier?
One born to honour, and to honour bred?
One that has learnt to treat even foes with kindness;
To wrong no good man's fame, nor praise himself?
Ser. Oh, name not love, for that's allied to joy;
And joy must be a stranger to my heart,
When you're in danger. May Chamont's good fortune
Render him lovely to some happier maid!
Whilst I at friendly distance see him blest,
Praise the kind gods, and wonder at his virtues.
Acast. Chamont, pursue her, conquer and possess her;
And, as my son, a third of all my fortune
Shall be thy lot.
But keep thy eyes from wandering, man of frailty:
Beware the dangerous beauty of the wanton;
Shun their enticements; ruin, like a vulture,
Waits on their conquests: falsehood too's their business;
They put[20] false beauty off to all the world;
Use false endearments to the fools that love 'em;
And, when they marry, to their silly husbands
They bring false virtue, broken fame and fortune.
Ser. Hear ye that, my lord?