What would she now?
Enter Rosamund.
By Christ, how fair thou art! I never saw thee
So like the sun in heaven: no rose on earth
Might think to match thee.
ROSAMUND.
All I am is thine.
ALBOVINE.
Mine? God might come from heaven to worship thee.
Thine eyes outlighten all the stars: thy face
Leaves earth no flower to worship.
ROSAMUND.
How should earth
Worship her children? Nought it is in me,
My lord’s dear love it is, that makes me seem
Fair.
ALBOVINE.