Val. How vse doth breed a habit in a man? This shadowy desart, vnfrequented woods I better brooke then flourishing peopled Townes: Here can I sit alone, vn-seene of any, And to the Nightingales complaining Notes Tune my distresses, and record my woes. O thou that dost inhabit in my brest, Leaue not the Mansion so long Tenant-lesse, Lest growing ruinous, the building fall, And leaue no memory of what it was, Repaire me, with thy presence, Siluia: Thou gentle Nimph, cherish thy forlorne swaine. What hallowing, and what stir is this to day? These are my mates, that make their wills their Law, Haue some vnhappy passenger in chace; They loue me well: yet I haue much to doe To keepe them from vnciuill outrages. Withdraw thee Valentine: who's this comes heere? Pro. Madam, this seruice I haue done for you (Though you respect not aught your seruant doth) To hazard life, and reskew you from him, That would haue forc'd your honour, and your loue, Vouchsafe me for my meed, but one faire looke: (A smaller boone then this I cannot beg, And lesse then this, I am sure you cannot giue.) Val. How like a dreame is this? I see, and heare: Loue, lend me patience to forbeare a while Sil. O miserable, vnhappy that I am Pro. Vnhappy were you (Madam) ere I came: But by my comming, I haue made you happy Sil. By thy approach thou mak'st me most vnhappy Iul. And me, when he approcheth to your presence Sil. Had I beene ceazed by a hungry Lion, I would haue beene a breakfast to the Beast, Rather then haue false Protheus reskue me: Oh heauen be iudge how I loue Valentine, Whose life's as tender to me as my soule, And full as much (for more there cannot be) I doe detest false periur'd Protheus: Therefore be gone, sollicit me no more Pro. What dangerous action, stood it next to death Would I not vndergoe, for one calme looke: Oh 'tis the curse in Loue, and still approu'd When women cannot loue, where they're belou'd Sil. When Protheus cannot loue, where he's belou'd: Read ouer Iulia's heart, (thy first best Loue) For whose deare sake, thou didst then rend thy faith Into a thousand oathes; and all those oathes, Descended into periury, to loue me, Thou hast no faith left now, vnlesse thou'dst two, And that's farre worse then none: better haue none Then plurall faith, which is too much by one: Thou Counterfeyt, to thy true friend Pro. In Loue, Who respects friend? Sil. All men but Protheus Pro. Nay, if the gentle spirit of mouing words Can no way change you to a milder forme; Ile wooe you like a Souldier, at armes end, And loue you 'gainst the nature of Loue: force ye Sil. Oh heauen Pro. Ile force thee yeeld to my desire Val. Ruffian: let goe that rude vnciuill touch, Thou friend of an ill fashion Pro. Valentine