Act 4 - Scene 2
Florence. The Widow's house.
Enter BERTRAM and DIANA
They told me that your name was Fontibell.
No, my good lord, Diana.
And worth it, with addition! But, fair soul,
In your fine frame hath love no quality?
fire of youth light not your mind,
You are no maiden, but a monument:
When you are dead, you should be
such a one
As you are now, for you are cold and stem;
And now you should be as your mother was
your sweet self was got.
She then was honest.
So should you be.
My mother did but duty; such, my lord,
As you owe to your wife.
No more o' that;
I prithee, do not strive against my vows:
I was compell'd to her; but I love thee
own sweet constraint, and will for ever
Do thee all rights of service.
Ay, so you serve us
Till we serve you; but when you have our roses,
You barely leave our thorns to prick
And mock us with our bareness.
How have I sworn!
'Tis not the many oaths that makes the truth,
But the plain single vow that is vow'd true.
What is not holy,
that we swear not by,
But take the High'st to witness: then, pray you, tell me,
If I should swear by God's
I loved you dearly, would you believe my oaths,
When I did love you ill? This has no
To swear by him whom I protest to love,
That I will work against him: therefore your oaths
words and poor conditions, but unseal'd,
At least in my opinion.
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