University of Virginia Library

Scene 4.

Lovel.
O loue, what passion art thou!
So tyrannous! and trecherous! first t'en-slaue,
And then betray, all that in truth do serue thee!
That not the wisest, nor the wariest creature,
Can more dissemble thee, then he can beare
Hot burning coales, in his bare palme, or bosome!
And lesse, conceale, or hide thee, then a flash
Of enflam'd powder, whose whole light doth lay it
Open, to all discouery, euen of those,
Who haue but halfe an eye, and lesse of nose!
An Host, to find me! who is, commonly,
The log, a little o' this side the signe-post!
Or, at the best, some round growne thing! a Iug,
Fac'd, with a beard, that fills out to the ghests,
And takes in, fro' the fragments o'their iestes?
But, I may wrong this, out of sullennes,
Or my mis-taking humor? Pray thee, phant'sie,


Be lay'd, againe. And, gentle-Melancholy,
Do not oppresse me. I will be as silent,
As the tame louer should be, and as foolish.