King. Why then, thy Husbands Lands I freely giue thee
Wid. I take my leaue with many thousand thankes
Rich. The Match is made, shee seales it with a Cursie
King. But stay thee, 'tis the fruits of loue I meane
Wid. The fruits of Loue, I meane, my louing Liege
King. I, but I feare me in another sence.
What Loue, think'st thou, I sue so much to get?
Wid. My loue till death, my humble thanks, my prayers,
That loue which Vertue begges, and Vertue graunts
King. No, by my troth, I did not meane such loue
Wid. Why then you meane not, as I thought you did
King. But now you partly may perceiue my minde
Wid. My minde will neuer graunt what I perceiue
Your Highnesse aymes at, if I ayme aright