_Cla._ Oh _Silvio_, let me speak that none may hear me, None but thy truth: I have lov'd this Lady long, Long given away my life to her devotion, Long dwelt upon that beauty to my ruine. _Sil._ Do's she know this? _Cla._ No, there begins my misery, _Ixion_-like, I have only yet clasp'd clouds, And fed upon poor empty dreams that starve me. _Sil._ And what do you mean to do now? _Cla._ Though I dye for't. Though all the tortures in the world hung on me, Arm'd with imperious Love, I stand prepar'd now, With this to reach her Chamber: there to see her, And tell her boldly with what truth I love her. _Sil._ 'Twill not be easily done Sir. _Cla._ Oh my _Silvio_, The hardest things are sweetest in possession. _Sil._ Nor will shew much discretion. _Cla._ Love is blind man, And he that looks for reason there far blinder. _Sil._ Have ye consider'd ripely? _Cla._ All that may fall, And arm'd against that all. _Sil._ Her honor too? What she may suffer in this rash adventure The beauty of her name? _Cla._ I'll doe it closely, And only at her window, with that caution-- _Sil._ Are there no Guards? _Cla._ Corruption chokes their service. _Sil._ Or do you hold her bred so light a woman To hold commerce with strange tongues? _Cla._ Why this service, This only hazard of my life must tell her, Though she were _Vestas_ self, I must deserve her. _Sil._ I would not have ye go: pray let it sink here, And think a nobler way to raise your service, A safer and a wiser. _Cla._ 'Tis too late, Sir. _Sil._ Then I must say, You shall not goe. _Cla._ I shall not? _Sil._ You shall not go: that part bred with ye, friendship Bids me say boldly so, and you observe me. _Cla._ You stretch that tye too far. _Sil._ I'll stretch it farther: The honor that I bear that spotless virtue You fouly seek to taint, unnobly covet, Bids me command ye stay: if not, thus force ye. _Soto._ This will be worse than climbing. _Cla._ Why do ye draw Sir? _Sil._ To kill thee, if thy base will be thy Master. _Cla._ I ever was your friend. _Sil._ Whilst thou wert honest, And not a Night-thief of anothers honor; I never call'd a fool my friend, a mad man, That durst expose his fame to all opinions, His life to unhonest dangers: I never lov'd him, Durst know his name, that sought a Virgins ruine, Nor ever took I pleasure in acquaintance With men, that give as loose rains to their fancies As the wild Ocean to his raging fluxes: A noble soul I twin with, and my love Followes his life, dares master his affections. Will ye give off, or fight? _Cla._ I will not fight with ye: The sacred name of friend ties up that anger, Rather I'll study. _Sil._ Do, to be a friend still.