Can you believe me stupid, or an Ass?
To think my Wife should meet a Man i' th' Night;
Nay, more; a Man that was my seeming Friend;
Yet taken in at Window privately!
Nay, which was most, stay with him two full hours,
And in a Room made proper by a Bed,
And yet not Cuckold me; the thing's too plain,
I do not doubt the deed, which Iv'e Reveng'd
In part, by killing him: No, I am mad,
That you should think so meanly still of me,
As to hope time may alter my belief;
Which is by such unerring Reasons fixt:
Or else that you suspect my Truth, when I have sworn
By all things sacred; nay upon my Honour
(Which I am so Jealous of) that if you would
Relate the truth of your so close amours,
I from my memory would blot it all,
And look on you at worst, but as the Widdow
Of your dead Couzen _Lewis_.

_Cæl._ Good my Lord,
Forbear to use these killing Arguments,
Which every moment give me many Deaths,
Rather be like your self, that's Gen'rous,
And kill me once for all; torment me not
By giving no belief, either to Vows
Or Actions that have spoke my Innocence:
Reflect (my Lord) on the unwearied pains
Iv'e took to gain your pardon for his Death.
Think with what patience I've suffer'd still