Love’s burdens
Or bitter-sweet commingled? Say
Which of Love’s pleasures doth apay
Thine heart the best? Hast thou not then
For master one who slaveth men4520
All unawares, and evermore
Torments them? Fickle Fortune bore
Her kindly toward thee when she set
Thy feet within Love’s trammelling net,
And made of thee his bond! ’Tis clear
That little fathomed’st thou the cheer
Of him thou took’st for master, or
Thou ne’er hadst laid that fardel sore
Across thy shoulders, or, if thou
Becam’st his man, wouldst scarce, I trow,4530
Have borne his yoke a summer through,
Nor day, nor hour, had bowed thereto,
But, doubt I not, without delay
His homage hadst thou cast away.
Still dost thou know him?”
The Lover.
“Yea, heartwhole.”
Reason.
“You jest!”
The Lover.
“Not I.”
Reason.
“Upon thy soul?”
