Would fight for her till all my face were scars!
But if that women be such fickle Shees;
Men may be like them in infirmities!"
O no, Daiphantus! Women are not so
'Tis but their shadows, pictures merely painted!
Then turn poor lover! "O heaven! not to my woe!
Then to Vitullia!" With that word, he fainted.
Yet she that wounds, did heal. Like her, no heaven.
Odds in a man, a woman can make even!