My heart is tied to that strict form of life,
That I joy only to be Lacy's wife.
LACY. God fill thy mind with these chaste, virtuous thoughts!
MUS. O, now I see her, I am half asham'd
Of so long absence, of neglect of speech.
My dearest lady, patroness of beauty,
Let thy poor servant make his true excuse!
HON. Musgrave, I easily take your excuse,
Accusing my fond self for what is pass'd.
MUS. Long time we wanted opportunity;
But now the forelock of well-wishing time
Hath bless'd us both, that here without suspect
We may renew the tenor of our loves.
LACY. O Dunstan, how she smiles to hear him speak!
HON. No, child of fortune and inconstancy,
Thou shalt not train me, or induce my love
To loose desires or dishonoured thoughts.
'Tis God's own work that struck a deep remorse
Into my tainted heart for my pass'd folly.
MUS. O, thou confound'st me! Speak as thou wert won't,
Like Love herself, my lovely Honorea.
HON. Why, how now, Musgrave! what esteem'st thou me,
That thou provokest me, that first denied me?
I will not yield you reasons why I may not,
More than your own. You told me why you would not.
MUS. By heavens, by thee, my saint, my happiness!
No torture shall control my heart in this,
To teach my tongue deny to call thee love.
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