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Dia. She then was honeft.
Ber. No more of that!
Dia. Ay, so you serve us,
Ber. How have I sworn ?
Dia. 'Tis not the many oaths, that make the truth;
Ber. 'What is not holy, that we swear not by,
Dia. Then, pray you, tell me,
Ber. Change it, change it ;
e strive against my vows :]-plead against the vow I have made never to cohabit with Helena.
f What is not holy, ]—I will not bind myself to thee by the flight and ordinary protestations of lovers.
8 ill?)-in an unlawful way.
h this has no bolding, to swear to bim, &c. ]—there is no consistency in swearing to a person that I love him, when I mean only to injure himby him.
Be not so holy-cruel : love is holy; ,
Dia. I fee, that men i make hopes in such affairs,
Ber. I'll lend it thee, my dear, but have no power To give it from me.
Dia. Will you not, my lord ?
Ber. It is an honour 'longing to our house,
Dia. Mine honour's such a ring :
Ber. Here, take my ring :
i make hopes in such affairs, ]-conceive hopes of success in such a frene-when once we admit them to make their amorous protestations. Ko be bid by shee, ]-be at thy disposal.
My reasons are most strong; and you shall know them,
S CE N E III.
The Florentine Camp.
Enter the two French Lords, and two or three Soldiers.
i Lord. You have not given him his mother's letter?
2 Lord. I have deliver'd it an hour since: there is something in't that stings his nature; for, on the reading it, he chang'd almost into another man.
i Lord. He has much worthy blame laid upon him, for shaking off so good a wife, and so sweet a lady.
2 Lord. Especially he hath incurred the everlasting dis
i braid, ]-deceitful.
m I live.
we are o
pleasure of the king, who had even tun'd his bounty to sing happiness to him. I will tell you a thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly with you.
i Lord. When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I am the grave of it.
2 Lord. He hath perverted a young gentlewoman here in Florence, of a most chaste renown; and this night he fleshes his will in the spoil of her honour; he hath given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself made in the unchaste composition.
i Lord. Now God " delay our rebellion ; as we are ourselves, what things are we !
2 Lord. Merely our own traitors. And as in the common course of all treasons, we still see them reveal themselves, o ere they attain to their abhorr'd ends ; fo he, that in this action contrives against his own nobility, Pin his proper stream o'erflows himself.
i Lord. Is it not 'most damnable in us, to be trumpeters of our unlawful intents? We shall not then have his company to-night?
2 Lord. Not 'till after midnight ; for he is dieted to his hour.
1 Lord. That approaches apace; I would gladly have him see his 'companion anatomized ; that he might take a measure of his own judgment, wherein so curiously he had set this counterfeit.
2 Lord. We will not meddle with him till he come ; for his presence must be the whip of the other.
i Lord. In the mean time, what hear you of these wars? 2 Lord. I hear, there is an overture of peace. i Lord. Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded.
→ delay)—avert, prevent.
o'till. p in his proper stream o'erflowus himself.]-betrays his secrets by his own talk.
I meant ; meantime; mean and, i company,
2 Lord. What will count Rousillon do then? will he travel higher, or return again into France ?
i Lord. I perceive by this demand, you are not altogether of his counsel.
2 Lord. Let it be forbid, fir! so should I be a great deal of his act. • 1 Lord. Sir, his wife, some two months since, fled from his house ; her prerence, a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques le grand; which holy undertaking, with most auftere sanctimony, she accomplish'd : and, there residing, 'through the tenderness of her nature, became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and now she sings in heaven.
2 Lord. How is this justified ? :
i Lord. The stronger part of it by her own letters; which makes her story true, even to the point of her death : her death itself, which could not be her office to say, is come, was faithfully confirm'd by the rector of the place.
2 Lord. Hath the count all this intelligence ?
i Lord. Ay, and the particular confirmations, "point from point, to the full arming of the verity.
2 Lord. I am heartily sorry, that he'll be glad of this.
i Lord. How mightily, sometimes, we make us comforts of our loffes !
2 Lord. And how mightily, some other times, we drown our gain in tears! the great dignity, that his valour hath here acquired for him, shall at home be encounter'd with a shame as ample. '
i Lord. The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together : our virtues would be proud, if our faults whip’d them not; and our crimes would despair, if they were not cherish'd by our virtues.
s the tenderness.
* juftified?]-made out, evinced. from point to point,-point for point.