Tut, tut, your selfe nowe have marde your owne marriage.
Well, yet mistresse Custance, if ye can this remitte,
This gentleman other wise may your love requitte. 84
C. Custance. No God be with you both, and seeke[519] no more to me.
Exeat.
R. Royster. Wough, she is gone for ever, I shall hir no more see.
M. Mery. What weepe? fye for shame, and blubber? for manhods sake,
Never lette your foe so muche pleasure of you take.
Rather play the mans parte, and doe love refraine.
If she despise you een despise ye hir againe. 90