Orl.  O that my cursse had power to wounde the starres
That with a more then envyous aspect
Thus racke me & my fortunes! marryed? 
I coulde allmost brable with destenye
For giveinge thys curst maryadge holye forme. 
And suer it errd in’t:  tys no gordyon knott
That tyes suche a disparytie together. 
But what will not soothd prynces? theire hye blood
A flatterye drawes toth lees, and more corrupte
Then a disease thats kyllinge.  Nowe must I,
Like to an Argosie sent rychlye fourthe,
Furnisht with all that mighte oppose the winds
And byde the furye of the sea-gods rage,
Trusted with halfe the wealthe a kyngdome yeilds,
Havinge, insteade of addinge to her store,
Undoone her selfe and made a thousand pore;
Meanlye retourninge without mast or helme,
Cable or anchor, quyte unrygd, unmand,
Shott throughe and throughe with artefyciall thunder
And naturall terror of tempestuous stormes,
Must (that had beene the wonder of the worlde
And loved burthen of the wanton seas)
Be nowe a subject fytt for all mens pytties
And like to such, not cared for a jott, ... ... ... ... ... must lye by & rott: 
And so must I.

Rei.  His dottage maks hym thynke
Hym selfe so happye in thys cursed matche
That when the newse of your successe aryved
(Thoughe cladd in laurell and fayrest victorie)
He had no eare for’t, all his powers beinge fylled
With a suppossed joy conceyvd in her.

Oli.  He has not dealt like Charlimayne t’expose
You to the horror of a cyvill warre,
And, whylst your loyaltye made glorious way
To hys wisht ends of conquest, thus to crosse
Your fayre successyon.

Orl.  Twas a speedinge plott
To sende me into Spayne, whylst Ganelon
Tooke the ryght course; yet, if I had beene here,
The envyous destenye that dothe attende
On all my undertakings, would have made
My best meanes uslesse to have hynderd it. 
For not the cooninge of slye Ganelon,
Charlimayne’s dottage, nor her wytchinge eie
(To whom I nowe must be obedyent)
Can challendge any share in my disgrace;
But myne owne fortune that did never smyle
But when it gave me a full cause to cursse. 
And were the way to my successyon free
As when I lefte the courte, yet gaynst all sence
And possybyllitie somethynge suer woulde sprynge
From my meare fate to make another kynge: 
So, torrent-like, my fortune ruynes all
My rights of byrthe and nature.

Rei.  You have doone ill To soothe hys adge unto thys vyolence.

Oli.  With penytence tys confest, consyderinge Preventyon hathe quyte fledd us, & no way’s Lefte eyther for revendge or remedye.

Orl.  I am the verye foote-ball of the starres,
Th’anottomye [sic] of fortune whom she dyssects
With all the poysons and sharpe corrosyves
Stylld in the lymbecke of damde pollycie. 
My starres, my starres! 
O that my breath could plucke theym from their spheares
So with theire ruyns to conclude my feares.