CAS. Thou Grossest still my mirth with discontents!
If ever heretofore I have displeas'd thee,
Sweet dame, I crave thy pardon now for all.
This is my birthday, girl, I must rejoice:
Ask what thou wilt, and I will give it thee.
MAR. Should I but ask to lead a quiet life,
You hardly would grant this unto your wife;
Much less a thing that were of more import.
CAS. Ask anything, and try if I'll deny thee.
MAR. O my poor Musgrave, how hast thou been wrong'd,
And my fair lady!
CAS. Use no preambles,
But tell me plainly.
MAR. Nay, remember them,
And join their slander to that love you owe me,
And then old Lacy's jealousy.
CAS. What then?
MAR. Nay, now I see you will not understand me.
CAS. Thou art too dark; speak plainly, and 'tis done.
MAR. Then doom the earl, and bless poor Musgrave's eyes
With Honorea's love; for this in thy hands lies.