C. Custance. Avaunt, losel![143] pick thee hence!
M. Merry. Well, sir, ye perceive,
For all your kind offer, she will not you receive.
R. Roister. Then a straw for her, and a straw for her again:
She shall not be my wife, would she never so fain;
No, and though she would be at ten thousand pound cost.
M. Merry. Lo, dame, ye may see what an husband ye have lost.
C. Custance. Yea, no force;[144] a jewel much better lost than found.
M. Merry. Ah, ye will not believe how this doth my heart wound.