[♦] And in her heart she scorns our poverty:
80 Shall I not live to be avenged on her?
Contemptuous base-born callet as she is,
She vaunted ’mongst her minions t’other day,
The very train of her worst wearing gown
Was better worth than all my father’s lands,
85 Till Suffolk gave two dukedoms for his daughter.
Suf. Madam, myself have limed a bush for her,
And placed a quire of such enticing birds,
[♦] That she will light to listen to the lays,