Take the symptoms--and ask all the tyrants of thy sex if
their fools are not known by this party-coloured livery. I am
melancholic when thou art absent; look like an ass when thou art
present; wake for thee when I should sleep; and even dream of thee
when I am awake; sigh much, drink little, eat less, court solitude,
am grown very entertaining to myself, and (as I am informed) very
troublesome to everybody else. If this be not love, it is madness,
and then it is pardonable. Nay, yet a more certain sign than all
this, I give thee my money.
SILV. Ay, but that is no sign; for they say, gentlemen will give
money to any naughty woman to come to bed to them. O Gemini, I
hope you don't mean so--for I won't be a whore.
HEART. The more is the pity. [Aside.]
SILV. Nay, if you would marry me, you should not come to bed to
me--you have such a beard, and would so prickle one. But do you
intend to marry me?
HEART. That a fool should ask such a malicious question! Death, I
shall be drawn in before I know where I am.
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