Cla. Upon my soul it is, Sir, and I bind ye.
Gos. Clause, can'st thou be so cruel?
Cla. You may break, Sir, But never more in my thoughts appear honest.
Gos. Did'st ever see her?
Cla. No.
Gos. She is such a thing,
O Clause, she is such a wonder, such a mirror,
For beauty, and fair vertue, Europe has not:
Why hast thou made me happy, to undo me?
But look upon her; then if thy heart relent not,
I'le quit her presently: who waits there?
Ser. [within] Sir.
Gos. Bid my fair love come hither, and the Company.
Prethee be good unto me; take a mans heart
And look upon her truly: take a friends heart
And feel what misery must follow this.
Cla. Take you a noble heart and keep your promise; I forsook all I had, to make you happy.
Enter Gertrude, Vandunk, and the rest Merchants.