Читать книгу The Complete Works of Shakespeare онлайн

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Val.

And how do yours?

Pro.

I left them all in health.

Val.

How does your lady, and how thrives your love?

Pro.

My tales of love were wont to weary you;

I know you joy not in a love-discourse.

Val.

Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter’d now:

I have done penance for contemning Love,

Whose high imperious thoughts have punish’d me

With bitter fasts, with penitential groans,

With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs,

For in revenge of my contempt of love,

Love hath chas’d sleep from my enthralled eyes,

And made them watchers of mine own heart’s sorrow.

O gentle Proteus, Love’s a mighty lord,

And hath so humbled me as I confess

There is no woe to his correction,

Nor to his service no such joy on earth:

Now no discourse, except it be of love;

Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep,

Upon the very naked name of love.

Pro.

Enough; I read your fortune in your eye.

Was this the idol that you worship so?

Val.

Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint?

Pro.

No; but she is an earthly paragon.