Bussy D'Ambois and The Revenge of Bussy D'Ambois

by George Chapman

Till I have pour'd for him out eyes and all.

Aum. O madame, this will kill him; comfort you100

With full assurance of his quicke acquitall;

Be not so passionate; rise, cease your teares.

Coun. Then must my life cease. Teares are all the vent

My life hath to scape death. Teares please me better

Then all lifes comforts, being the naturall seede105

Of heartie sorrow. As a tree fruit beares,

So doth an undissembled sorrow, teares. Hee raises her, and leades her out. Exe[unt].