Bal monologue — The Spanish Tragedie

No; she is wilder, and more hard withall, Then beast or bird, or tree or stony wall! But wherefore blot I Bel-imperias name? It is my fault, not she that merits blame. My feature is not to content her sight; My wordes are rude and worke her no delight; The lines I send her are but harsh and ill, Such as doe drop from Pan and Marsias quill; My presents are not of sufficient cost; And, being worthles, all my labours lost. Yet might she loue me for my valiancie. I; but thats slandred by captiuitie. Yet might she loue me to content her sire. I; but her reason masters [her] desire. Yet might she loue me as her brothers freend. I; but her hopes aime at some other end. Yet might she loue me to vpreare her state. I; but perhaps she [loues] some nobler mate. Yet might she loue me as her beauties thrall. I; but I feare she cannot loue at all.