Fer. O heauen; O earth, beare witnes to this sound,
And crowne what I professe with kinde euent
If I speake true: if hollowly, inuert
What best is boaded me, to mischiefe: I,
Beyond all limit of what else i'th world
Do loue, prize, honor you
Mir. I am a foole
To weepe at what I am glad of
Pro. Faire encounter
Of two most rare affections: heauens raine grace
On that which breeds betweene 'em
Fer. Wherefore weepe you?
Mir. At mine vnworthinesse, that dare not offer
What I desire to giue; and much lesse take
What I shall die to want: But this is trifling,
And all the more it seekes to hide it selfe,
The bigger bulke it shewes. Hence bashfull cunning,
And prompt me plaine and holy innocence.
I am your wife, if you will marrie me;
If not, Ile die your maid: to be your fellow
You may denie me, but Ile be your seruant
Whether you will or no
Fer. My Mistris (deerest)
And I thus humble euer
Mir. My husband then?
Fer. I, with a heart as willing
As bondage ere of freedome: heere's my hand
Mir. And mine, with my heart in't; and now farewel
Till halfe an houre hence
Fer. A thousand, thousand.