Leon. I frame not any to be hid from you;
You, in my love, all my designs may see. 
But what have love and you designed for me? 
Fortune, once more, has set the balance right;
First, equalled us in lowness; then, in height. 
Both of us have so long, like gamesters, thrown,
Till fate comes round, and gives to each his own. 
As fate is equal, so may love appear: 
Tell me, at least, what I must hope, or fear.

Palm. After so many proofs, how can you call
My love in doubt?  Fear nothing, and hope all. 
Think what a prince, with honour, may receive,
Or I may give, without a parent’s leave.

Leon. You give, and then restrain the grace you shew;
As ostentatious priests, when souls they woo,
Promise their heaven to all, but grant to few. 
But do for me, what I have dared for you: 
I did no argument from duty bring;
Duty’s a name, and love’s a real thing.

Palm. Man’s love may, like wild torrents, overflow;
Woman’s as deep, but in its banks must go. 
My love is mine, and that I can impart;
But cannot give my person, with my heart.

Leon. Your love is then no gift:  For, when the person it does not convey, ’Tis to give gold, and not to give the key.

Palm. Then ask my father.

Leon. He detains my throne; Who holds back mine, will hardly give his own.

Palm. What then remains?

Leon. That I must have recourse
To arms, and take my love and crown, by force. 
Hermogenes is forming the design;
And with him all the brave and loyal join.

Palm. And is it thus you court Palmyra’s bed? 
Can she the murderer of her parent wed? 
Desist from force:  So much you well may give
To love, and me, to let my father live.

Leon. Each act of mine my love to you has shewn;
But you who tax my want of it, have none. 
You bid me part with you, and let him live;
But they should nothing ask, who nothing give.

Palm. I give what virtue, and what duty can, In vowing ne’er to wed another man.

Leon. You will be forced to be Argaleon’s wife.

Palm. I’ll keep my promise, though I lose my life.

Leon. Then you lose love, for which we both contend; For life is but the means, but love’s the end. Palm. Our souls shall love hereafter.

Leon. I much fear, That soul, which could deny the body here To taste of love, would be a niggard there.

Palm. Then ’tis past hope:  our cruel fate, I see,
Will make a sad divorce ’twixt you and me. 
For, if you force employ, by heaven I swear,
And all blessed beings,—­

Leon. Your rash oath forbear.

Palm. I never—­

Leon. Hold once more.  But yet, as he,
Who ’scapes a dangerous leap, looks back to see;
So I desire, now I am past my fear,
To know what was that oath you meant to swear.