Con. Hence with this prating Maide.
If thou hast any anger in thy brest
Towards this Lady, turne it all on me.
She is a woman, timerous by her kinde;
I, man-like borne, and beare a man-like minde.
Mon. Ile trie your courage. [Draw.[164]
Euph. As thou fear'st my frowne,
As thou hast hope to thrive in thy new choice,
As thou respect'st the favour of the gods,
Welfare in any action thou intends,
Doe not reveale unto my fretfull father
This humble choice that my high birth hath made.
Mon. Why, then forsweare him.
Euph. Sooner set thy feet Upon my breast, and tread me to the ground.
Ju. As thou art any thing more then a beast, Doe not procure my Ladie such disgrace.
Mon. Peace, bawde, Ile have no conference with you.
Euph. He cannot hurt me, 'tis my Love I feare.
Although my father be as sterne as warre,
Inexorable like consuming fire,
As jealous of his honour as his crowne,
To me his anger is like Zephires breath
Cast on a banke of sommer violets,
But to my Love like whirlewinde to a boate
Taken in midst of a tumultuous sea.
Enter Duke of Saxonie and Fredericke.
Alas, he comes! Montano, prethee, peace.
Courage, sweete Love.