King. Are they not married?
Lincoln. No, my liege.
Both. We are.
King. Shall I divorce them then? O be it far,
That any hand on earth should dare untie
The sacred knot, knit by God’s majesty;
I would not for my crown disjoin their hands,
That are conjoïned in holy nuptial bands.
How say’st thou, Lacy, wouldst thou lose thy Rose?
Lacy. Not for all India’s wealth, my sovereign.
King. But Rose, I am sure, her Lacy would forego?
Rose. If Rose were asked that question, she’d say no.
King. You hear them, Lincoln?
Lincoln. Yea, my liege, I do.
King. Yet canst thou find i’th’ heart to part these two?
Who seeks, besides you, to divorce these lovers?