Then speake againe, not all thy former tale,
But this one word, whether thy tale be true

Sal. As true as I beleeue you thinke them false,
That giue you cause to proue my saying true

Con. Oh if thou teach me to beleeue this sorrow,
Teach thou this sorrow, how to make me dye,
And let beleefe, and life encounter so,
As doth the furie of two desperate men,
Which in the very meeting fall, and dye.
Lewes marry Blaunch? O boy, then where art thou?
France friend with England, what becomes of me?
Fellow be gone: I cannot brooke thy sight,
This newes hath made thee a most vgly man

Sal. What other harme haue I good Lady done,
But spoke the harme, that is by others done?
Con. Which harme within it selfe so heynous is,
As it makes harmefull all that speake of it

Ar. I do beseech you Madam be content

Con. If thou that bidst me be content, wert grim
Vgly, and slandrous to thy Mothers wombe,
Full of vnpleasing blots, and sightlesse staines,
Lame, foolish, crooked, swart, prodigious,
Patch'd with foule Moles, and eye-offending markes,
I would not care, I then would be content,
For then I should not loue thee: no, nor thou