All against the laws of matrimony,
She did abhor her husband's phis'nomy;
Aye me, the thought (quoth she) makes me so 'fraid,
That scarce the breath abideth in my breast;
Peace, my sweet love and wife, Jocundo said,
And weeps as fast, and comforts her his best, &c.
All this might not assuage the woman's pain,
Needs must I die before you come again,
Nor how to keep my life I can devise,
The doleful days and nights I shall sustain,