And when my kyngdomes gone pray what am I?
A pore decrepyd mysserable thynge
That needs no greater plauge then adge and wrinckles.

_Tur_. Indeed your passyon is toe vyolent.
I doe adore you next to dietie [sic]
And will lay downe my life for you to treade on.

_Char_. Oh[92] nowe religion teache me to beleive
Another god, or I must forfayte heaven
And worshypp what I see, thys happy creature.
Nowe courtyers flatterye cannot keepe my sence
From knowinge what I feele, for I am weake:
Tys all my comfort nowe to thynke on thee
Who bryngst my captive soule to libertie.
Chuse then a fytt rewarde, examyne all,
All my domynions and authoryties;
Thynke what may please thee, make a full request
Or I shall growe a burthen to thy favors.

_Tur_. What shall I aske, that in your favours have
All that I can desyer?

_Char_. Nay, aske me somethynge:
Come, tell't in myne eare?

_Bus_. What thynke you, lorde?
Has any favrytt all he can desyer.

_Rich_. Yes, and a be contented.