He rais'd a sigh so piteous and profound
That it did seem to shatter all his bulk
And end his being. That done, he lets me go, 96
And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd,
He seem'd to find his way without his eyes;
For out o' doors he went without their help,
And to the last bended their light on me. 100
Pol. Come, go with me; I will go seek the king.
This is the very ecstasy of love,
Whose violent property fordoes itself
And leads the will to desperate undertakings
As oft as any passion under heaven 105
That does afflict our natures. I am sorry.
What! have you given him any hard words of late?
Oph. No, my good lord; but, as you did command, 108
I did repel his letters and denied
His access to me.
Pol. That hath made him mad.
I am sorry that with better heed and judgment
I had not quoted him; I fear'd he did but trifle,
And meant to wrack thee; but, beshrew my jealousy! 113
By heaven, it is as proper to our age
To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions
As it is common for the younger sort 116
To lack discretion. Come, go we to the king:
This must be known; which, being kept close, might move
More grief to hide than hate to utter love.
Come. Exeunt.
95 bulk: breast
102 ecstasy: madness
103 property: nature
fordoes: destroys
112 quoted: observed
113 wrack: ruin
beshrew: curse
jealousy: suspicion, mistrust
115 cast beyond: be over subtle
119 More . . . love; cf. n.
