No matter who’s displeased when you are gone:
I fear me, he will scarce be pleased [withal].
Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear:
A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears,
70 And instances [of infinite] of love,
Warrant me welcome to my Proteus.
Luc. All these are servants to deceitful men.
Jul. Base men, that use them to so base effect!
But truer stars did govern Proteus’ birth:
II. 7.
75 His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles;