Roselo. I often in close ambush lie,
And hear each word.
Anselmo. So thou then art her husband,
And she's thy wife?
Roselo. Those names are ours, and with them
All the joys of wooers' bliss.
Anselmo. I tremble for thy fate.
Roselo. I, love's favourite, tremble not
At aught.
Anselmo. Not even at the bitter hate,
Which doth divide your houses?
Roselo. I nothing fear; for doth not love
And marriage laugh at fear?
Anselmo. I know not now what counsel
Best to give.
Roselo. I'm grateful for thy counsel, but
The deed being done good counsel now
Is but a drop to swell the roaring sea.
Anselmo. What wilt thou do?
Roselo. Patiently I'll wait, Anselmo; for doth not
Patience lift the lowly valleys high,
And tumble lofty mountains down the vale.
Antonio (without). Out, out ye cowards all!
Out, out, Monteses!
Arnaldo (without). Give way, ye knaves, give way!
Death to Castelvines, all!
Roselo. What means this noise within?
Teobaldo (without). Hold not thyself so proudly, or—
Antonio (without). Although thou hast the seats
As high as heaven's vault,
I would, as I do now, seize
And cast them to the lowest hell.
