The city full of shouts and brawls.
I love you more than all my other loves;
And as each hen doth wisely guard her nest,
So mine's well fill'd with jewels of the best.
The cocks may strut, and crow, and fight;
Who cares? And shall I kill my loving knight,
By slipping steel 'neath doublet to his heart?
Oh no! I'll give instead the keys to open vaults
Well stored with rosy wines; of that red blood
I give thee leave to drain full cups; no other cares
Thy Celia dear to spare. Oh sweet Marin,
Thine is the kindred and the house I love,
For in the flesh I Celia am, I know,
But in the spirit nothing but Marina.
Roselo. What would my own sweet love that I
In this perplexing strait attempt?
Julia. In secret to Verona come when only stars
Can see, till favouring sunshine smiles with hope
Upon our loves. Then fate shall waft us on
To Venice; thy corded steps will point the way,
And my poor heart not even cold content can know
Until thou com'st again, husband, I love thee so.
Say thou wilt come, and quickly, too, ere I let thee go.
Roselo. Can my sweet Julia doubt her husband's love?
Pray heaven that my father's face I no more see,
Nor be at peace with kindred of our house
Amid these broils and most accursed strife,
Or reach Ferrara's gates with life,
Or that some Castelvins may in ambush lie,
And rushing forth, stab till thy husband die;
And so each hope of joy and bliss may fade,
Ere I one syllable omit of promise made.
