Giovanni is in love, and because of his passion is in torment -
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Lost, I am lost: my fates have doomed my death.
The more I strive, I love; the more I love,
The less I hope: I see my ruin, certain.
What judgement or endeavours could apply
To my incurable and restless wounds
I thoroughly have examined, but in vain.
O that it were not in religion sin
To make our love a god, and worship it.
I have even weared heaven with prayers, dried up
The spring of my continual tears, even started
My veins with daily fasts. What wit or art
Could counsel, I have practised; but alas
I find all these but dreams, and old men's tales
To fright unsteady youth; I'm still the same.
Or I must speak, or burst; 'tis not I know,
My lust, but 'tis my fate that leads me on.
Keep fear and low faint-hearted shame with slaves!
I'll tell her that I love her, though my heart
Were rated at the price of that attempt.
Ford, John. Tis Pity She’s a Whore. [http://www.johnwebster.galeon.com/writersworks/pity/act1.2pity.htm]
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