I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so.

Our house is hell, and thou, a merry devil,

Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness.

But fare thee well, there is a ducat for thee,

And, Launcelet, soon at supper shalt thou see

Lorenzo, who is thy new master’s guest.

Give him this letter, do it secretly.

And so farewell. I would not have my father

See me in talk with thee.

Adieu! tears exhibit my tongue, most beautiful pagan, most sweet Jew!

If a Christian do not play the knave and get thee, I am much deceived.

But, adieu! These foolish drops do something drown my manly spirit.

Adieu!

Farewell, good Launcelet.

Alack, what heinous sin is it in me

To be ashamed to be my father’s child!

But though I am a daughter to his blood,

I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo,

If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife,

Become a Christian and thy loving wife.