Val.
Now tell me how do all from whence you came?

Pro.
Your friends are well, and have them much commended.

Val.
And how do yours?

Pro.
I left them all in health.

Val.
How does your lady? and how thrives your love?

Pro.
My tales of love were wont to weary you;
I know you joy not in a love-discourse.

Val.
Ay, Protheus, but that life is alter'd now;
I have done penance for contemning love,
Whose high imperious thoughts have punish'd me
With bitter fasts, with penitential groans,
With nightly tears and daily heart-sore sighs.
For in revenge of my contempt of love,
Love hath chac'd sleep from my enthralled eyes,
And made them watchers of mine own heart's-sorrow.
O gentle Protheus, love's a mighty lord,
And hath so humbled me, as I confess
There is no wo to his correction;
Nor to his service, no such joy on earth.
Now no discourse, except it be of love;
Now can I break my fast, dine, sup and sleep
Upon the very naked name of love.

Pro.
Enough: I read your fortune in your eye.
Was this the idol that you worship so?

Val.
Even she; and is she not a heav'nly saint?

Pro.
No; but she is an earthly paragon.

Val.
Call her divine.

Pro.
I will not flatter her.

Val.
O flatter me; for love delights in praise.

Pro.
When I was sick you gave me bitter pills,

And I must minister the like to you.

Val.
Then speak the truth by her: if not divine,
Yet let her be a principality,
Sov'raign to all the creatures on the earth.

Pro.
Except my mistress.

Val.
Sweet, except not any,
Except thou wilt except against my love.

Pro.
Have I not reason to prefer mine own?

Val.
And I will help thee to prefer her too:
She shall be dignify'd with this high honour,
To bear my lady's train, lest the base earth
Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss;
And of so great a favour growing proud,
Disdain to root the summer-swelling flower,
And make rough winter everlastingly.

Pro.
Why Valentine, what bragadism is this?

Val.
Pardon me, Protheus; all I can is nothing
To her, whose worth makes other worthies nothing;
She is alone.

Pro.
Then let her alone.

Val.
Not for the world: why man, she is mine own,
And I as rich in having such a jewel,
As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl,
The water nectar, and the rock pure gold.
Forgive me that I do not dream on thee,
Because thou seest me doat upon my love.
My foolish rival, that her father likes
Only for his possessions are so huge,
Is gone with her along, and I must after;
For love thou know'st is full of jealousie.

Pro.
But she loves you?

Val.
Ay, and we are betroth'd; nay more, our marriage,

With all the cunning manner of our flight,
Determin'd of; how I must climb her window,
The ladder made of cords, and all the means
Plotted and 'greed on for my happiness.
Good Protheus go with me to my chamber,
In these affairs to aid me with thy counsel.

Pro.
Go on before; I shall enquire you forth.
I must unto the road, to disembark
Some necessaries that I needs must use;
And then I'll presently attend you.

Val.
Will you make haste?

Pro.
I will. [Exit Val.
Ev'n as one heat another heat expels,
Or as one nail by strength drives out another;
So the remembrance of my former love
Is by a newer object quite forgotten.
Is it mine then, or Valentino's praise?
Her true perfection or my false transgression,
That makes me reasonless to reason thus?
She's fair; and so is Julia that I love;
That I did love, for now my love is thaw'd;
Which like a waxen image 'gainst a fire,
Bears no impression of the thing it was.
Methinks my zeal to Valentine is cold,
And that I love him not as I was wont.
O! but I love his lady too too much;
And that's the reason I love him so little.
How shall I doat on her with more advice,
That thus without advice begin to love her?
'Tis but her picture I have yet beheld,
And that hath dazled so my reason's light:
But when I look on her perfections,

There is no reason but I shall be blind.
If I can check my erring love, I will;
If not, to compass her I'll use my skill. [Exit.

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