Love.
I made those knights, of several sect and countries,
Each one by arms to honour his beloved.
Fortune.
Nay, one alone to honour his beloved:
The rest, by turning of my tickle wheel,
Came short in reaching of fair honour's mark:
I gave Erastus only that day's prize,
A sweet renown, but mix'd with bitter sorrow;
For, in conclusion of his happiness,
I made him lose the precious carcanet,
Whereon depended all his hope and joy.
Death.
And more than so; for he, that found the chain,
Even for that chain shall be depriv'd of life.
Love.
Besides, Love hath enforc'd a fool—
The fond braggado—to presume to arms.
Fortune.
Ay, but thou see'st, how he was overthrown
By Fortune's high displeasure.