And crown thy selfe; thou part'st with victory:
My presence is so onely deare to thee130
That other mens appeare worse than they be:
For this night yet, beare with my forced absence:
Thou know'st my businesse; and with how much weight
My vow hath charged it.
Tam. True, my lord, and never
My fruitlesse love shall let your serious honour;[135]
Yet, sweet lord, do no stay; you know my soule
Is so long time with out me, and I dead,