Enter the masquers GRATIANO and
This is the penthouse under which Lorenzo
Desired us to make stand.
His hour is almost past.
And it is marvel he outdwells his hour,
For lovers ever run before the clock.
5Oh, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly
To seal love’s bonds new made than they are wont
To keep obligèd faith unforfeited.
That ever holds. Who riseth from a feast
With that keen appetite that he sits down?
10Where is the horse that doth untread again
His tedious measures with the unbated fire
That he did pace them first? All things that are,
Are with more spirit chasèd than enjoyed.
How like a younger or a prodigal
15The scarfèd bark puts from her native bay,
Hugged and embraèd by the strumpet wind!
How like the prodigal doth she return,
With overweathered ribs and ragged sails
Lean, rent, and beggared by the strumpet wind!
20Here comes Lorenzo. More of this hereafter.