’Tis new to me. The best ’i the world, damn this love!
Fool, wert thou ever in love?
Dagonet. Yea, thou knowest I be a fool.
Gwaine. Then be wise like Gwaine, Fool, and scorn love;
’Tis but a mad fever ’o the head and marrow.
It creepeth in by the eyes and spoileth a good man.
It killeth sleep and maketh a mock at feeding.
It heateth the blood and routeth caution.
’Ware of love, Fool, an’ thou would’st be wise.
Dagonet. Yea, thy words be like what the wind said to the wall.