What! playing the woman, Bell’-Imperia?
Nay, then you love me not; or, at the least,
You drown my honours in those flowing waters.
Believe it, Bell’-Imperia, ’tis as common
To weep at parting, as to be a woman.
Love me more valiant; play not this moist prize;
Be woman in all parts save in thy eyes.
And so I leave thee.
Bel. Farewell, my lord:
Be mindful of my love and of your word.