DUKE: Sure, I think
Thou know'st the way to please me: I affect
A passionate pleading 'bove an easy yielding;
But never pitied any--they deserve none--
That will not pity me. I can command,
Think upon that; yet if thou truly knewest
The infinite pleasures my affection takes
In gentle, fair entreatings, when love's businesses
Are carried courteously 'twixt heart and heart,
You'd make more haste to please me.
I give better in exchange--wealth and honour;
She that is fortunate in a duke's favour
'Lights on a tree that bears all women's wishes:
If your own mother saw you pluck fruit there,
She would commend your wit, and praise the time
Of your nativity; take hold of glory.
I know you've cast away your life
Upon necessities, means merely doubtful
To keep you in indifferent health and fashion--
A thing I heard too lately, and soon pitied--
And can you be so much your beauty's enemy,
To kiss away a month or two in wedlock,
And weep whole years in wants for ever after?
Come, play the wise wench, and provide for ever;
Let storms come when they list, they find thee shelter'd.
Should any doubt arise, let nothing trouble thee;
Put trust in our love for the managing
Of all to thy heart's peace: we'll walk together,
And show a thankful joy for both our fortunes.