Chi non ti vede non ti pretia.
Old Mantuan, old Mantuan! who understandeth thee not, [095] loves thee not. Ut, re, sol, la, mi, fa. Under pardon, sir, what are the contents? or rather, as Horace says in his— What, my soul, verses?
Nath. Ay, sir, and very learned.
[099] Hol. Let me hear a staff, a stanze, a verse; lege, domine.
Nath. [reads]
100 If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love?
[101] Ah, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vow’d!
[102] Though to myself forsworn, to thee I’ll faithful prove;
[103] Those thoughts to me were oaks, to thee like osiers bow’d.
Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes,