Gom. Marry, because you make us laymen of the tribe of Issachar.  You make asses of us, to bear your burthens.  When we are young, you put panniers upon us with your church-discipline; and when we are grown up, you load us with a wife:  after that, you procure for other men, and then you load our wives too.  A fine phrase you have amongst you to draw us into marriage, you call it—­settling of a man; just as when a fellow has got a sound knock upon the head, they say—­he’s settled: Marriage is a settling-blow indeed.  They say every thing in the world is good for something; as a toad, to suck up the venom of the earth; but I never knew what a friar was good for, till your pimping shewed me.

Dom. Thou shalt answer for this, thou slanderer; thy offences be upon thy head.

Gom. I believe there are some offences there of your planting. [Exit DOM.] Lord, Lord, that men should have sense enough to set snares in their warrens to catch polecats and foxes, and yet—­
  Want wit a priest-trap at their door to lay,
  For holy vermin that in houses prey. [Exit GOM.

SCENE III.—­A Bed Chamber.

  LEONORA, and TERESA.

Ter. You are not what you were, since yesterday;
Your food forsakes you, and your needful rest;
You pine, you languish, love to be alone;
Think much, speak little, and, in speaking, sigh: 
When you see Torrismond, you are unquiet;
But, when you see him not, you are in pain.

Leo. O let them never love, who never tried! 
They brought a paper to me to be signed;
Thinking on him, I quite forgot my name,
And writ, for Leonora, Torrismond. 
I went to bed, and to myself I thought
That I would think on Torrismond no more;
Then shut my eyes, but could not shut out him. 
I turned, and tried each corner of my bed,
To find if sleep were there, but sleep was lost. 
Fev’rish, for want of rest, I rose, and walked,
And, by the moon-shine, to the windows went;
There, thinking to exclude him from my thoughts,
I cast my eyes upon the neighbouring fields,
And, ere I was aware, sighed to myself,—­
There fought my Torrismond.

Ter. What hinders you to take the man you love?  The people will be glad, the soldiers shout, And Bertran, though repining, will be awed.

Leo. I fear to try new love,
As boys to venture on the unknown ice,
That crackles underneath them while they slide. 
Oh, how shall I describe this growing ill! 
Betwixt my doubt and love, methinks I stand
Altering, like one that waits an ague fit;
And yet, would this were all!

Ter. What fear you more?

Leo. I am ashamed to say, ’tis but a fancy. 
At break of day, when dreams, they say, are true,
A drowzy slumber, rather than a sleep,
Seized on my senses, with long watching worn: 
Methought I stood on a wide river’s bank,
Which I must needs o’erpass, but knew not how;
When, on a sudden, Torrismond appeared,
Gave me his hand, and led me lightly o’er,
Leaping and bounding on the billows’ heads,
’Till safely we had reached the farther shore.