Margret, farewel; another time shall serve.
Exit Serlsby.
Lambert. Ile follow.—Peggie, farewell to thy selfe;
Listen how well Ile answer for thy love.
Exit Lambert.
Margeret. How fortune tempers lucky happes with frowns, 90
And wrongs[1474] me with the sweets of my delight!
Love is my blisse, and love is now my bale.
Shall I be Hellen in my forward[1475] fates,
As I am Hellen in my matchles hue,