[♦] The spacious world cannot again afford:
[♦] And will she yet debase her eyes on me,
[♦] That cropp’d the golden prime of this sweet prince,
[♦] And made her widow to a woful bed?
[250] On me, whose all not equals Edward’s moiety?
[♦] On me, that halt and am unshapen thus?
[♦] My dukedom to a beggarly denier,
I do mistake my person all this while:
Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot,
255 Myself to be a marvellous proper man.