_
_Ere I prooue false, the world desolu'd shall be,
To that same nothing that it was before,
Ere I prooue false mine eyes shall cease to see,
And breath of life shall breath in me no more:
The strong built frame shall moue from his foundation
Ere I remoue my soules determination._
_Death shall forget to kill, and men to dye,
Condemned soules shall laugh, and cease to mourne,
The lowest hell shall rise and meete the skye,
Time shall forget his course and backe returne:
Contrary vnto kinde each thing shall proue,
Ere I be false or once forget my loue._
_Oh then deare heart regard my sad estate,
My passions griefe and wofull lamentation,
Oh pittie me ere pittie come too late,
That hold thee deare past mans imagination:
Preserue my life and say that thou wilt haue me,
Or else I die the whole world cannot saue me_.
_Grace_.
This is a Ballad I haue heard it sung.
_Doll_.
Well, be or be not, that's not to the matter,
But who will trust a louers pen or tongue,
That vse all protestations thus to flatter:
For this base fellow that was so perplext,
Sent this one monday, and was married next.
_Sara_.
Now out vpon him most dissembling creature,
Ile warrant you that he can neuer thriue,
He showes himselfe, euen of as bad a nature,
As euer was in any man aliue:
Alas poore foole that hath this fellow got,
Shee hath a Iewell of him, hath she not?
_Nell_.
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