“ And let th' enchantress Honour, next be slain; And like a Goth and Vandal rise, Deface records and histories Of your own arts and triumphs over men, And without such advantage kill me then, For I could muster up, as well as you, My giants, and my witches too, Which are vast Constancy and Secretness; But these I neither look for nor profess; Kill me as woman, let me die As a mere man; do you but try Your passive valour, and you shall find then, Naked you have odds enough of any man. ”
