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Val. I Protheus, but that life is alter'd now, I haue done pennance for contemning Loue, Whose high emperious thoughts haue punish'd me With bitter fasts, with penitentiall grones, With nightly teares, and daily hart-sore sighes, For in reuenge of my contempt of loue, Loue hath chas'd sleepe from my enthralled eyes, And made them watchers of mine owne hearts sorrow. O gentle Protheus, Loue's a mighty Lord, And hath so humbled me, as I confesse There is no woe to his correction, Nor to his Seruice, no such ioy on earth: Now, no discourse, except it be of loue: Now can I breake my fast, dine, sup, and sleepe, Vpon the very naked name of Loue