PLAYER QUEEN

So many journeys may the Sun and Moon Make us again count over, ere love be duone. But woe is me, you are so sick of late, So far from cheer, and from your form state, That I distrust you: yet though I distrust, Discomfort you (my Lord) it nothing must: For women's Fear and Love, holds quantity, In neither ought, or in extremity: Now what my love is, proof hath made you know, And as my Love is sized, my Fear is so. O confound the rest: Such Love, must needs be Treason in my breast: In second Husband, let me be accursed, None wed the second, but who killed the first. Nor Earth to give me food, nor Heaven light, Sport and repose lock from me day and night: Each opposite that blanks the face of joy, Meet what I would have well, and it destroy: Both here, and hence, pursue me lasting strife, If once a Widow, ever I be Wife. The instances that second Marriage move, Are base respects of Thrist, but none of Love. A second time, I kill my Husband dead, When second Husband kisses me in Bed.