That e'er so small will make me ample heaven.
La. Alb. You will not ask of Glaia?
Mar. Ask? Dost think
That I must ask?
La. Alb. He will not tell thee!
Mar. Not?
I am his heart. His veins run not with health
Except as I know how they course, and beat
Concordantly. Doubt not he'll tell me all.
La. Alb. He shall not tell thee!