And like a Sea, I roule, toss, and chafe a week after.
And then all mischief I can think upon,
Abusing of your bed the least and poorest,
I tell you what you'le finde, and in these fitts,
This little beauty you are pleased to honour,
Will be so chang'd, so alter'd to an ugliness,
To such a vizard, ten to one, I dye too,
Take't then upon my death you murder'd me.

_Clod_. Away, away fool, why dost thou proclame these
To prevent that in me, thou hast chosen in another?

_Zen_. Him I have chosen, I can rule and master,
Temper to what I please, you are a great one
Of a strong will to bend, I dare not venture.
Be wise my Lord, and say you were well counsel'd,
Take mony for my ransom, and forget me,
'Twill be both safe, and noble for your honour,
And wheresoever my fortunes shall conduct me,
So worthy mentions I shall render of you,
So vertuous and so fair.

_Clod_. You will not marrie me?

_Zen_. I do beseech your honour, be not angry
At what I say, I cannot love ye, dare not;
But set a ransom, for the flowr you covet.

_Clod_. No mony, nor no prayers, shall redeem that,
Not all the art you have.