Mont. Good day, my love! what, up and ready too!
Tam. Both (my deare lord): not all this night made I
My selfe unready, or could sleep a wink.
Mont. Alas, what troubled my true love, my peace,[90]
From being at peace within her better selfe?
Or how could sleepe forbeare to seize thine eyes,
When he might challenge them as his just prise?
Tam. I am in no powre earthly, but in yours.
To what end should I goe to bed, my lord,95
That wholly mist the comfort of my bed?