_Gons_. Thou hast not field enough in thy young breast,
To entertain such storms to struggle in.
_Amid_. Young as I am, I know the power of love;
Its less disquiets, and its greater cares,
And all that's in it, but the happiness.
Trust a boy's word, sir, if you please, and take
My innocence for wisdom; Leave this lady;
Cease to persuade yourself you are in love,
And you will soon be freed. Not that I wish
A thing, so noble as your passion, lost
To all the sex: Bestow it on some other;
You'll find many as fair, though none so cruel.--
Would I could be a lady for your sake!
_Hip_. If I could be a woman, with a wish,
You should not be without a rival long.
_Amid_. A cedar, of your stature, would not cause
Much jealousy.
_Hip_. More than a shrub of yours.
_Gons_. How eagerly these boys fall out for nothing!--
Tell me, Hippolito, wert thou a woman,
Who would'st thou be?
_Hip_. I would be Julia, sir,
Because you love her.
_Amid_. I would not be she,
Because she loves not you.
_Hip_. True, Amideo;
And, therefore, I would wish myself a lady,
Who, I am sure, does infinitely love him.
_Amid_. I hope that lady has a name?
_Hip_. She has:
And she is called Honoria, sister to
This Julia, and bred up at Barcelona;
Who loves him with a flame so pure and noble,
That, did she know his love to Julia,
She would beg Julia to make him happy.
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