Cit. I warrant thee, sweetheart, we'll have him hampered.
Luce. Oh, Jasper! be not cruel,
If thou wilt kill me, smile, and do it quickly,
And let not many deaths appear before me.
I am a woman made of fear and love,
A weak, weak woman, kill not with thy eyes,
They shoot me through and through. Strike, I am ready,
And dying, still I love thee.
Enter Merchant, Humphrey, and his Men.
Merch. Where abouts?