cloyment

There is no woman’s sides
Can bide the beating of so strong a passion
As love doth give my heart ; no woman’s heart
So big , to hold so much ; they lack retention .
Alas , their love may be called appetite ,
No motion of the liver , but the palate ,
That suffer surfeit , cloyment , and revolt ;
But mine is all as hungry as the sea ,
And can digest as much . Make no compare
Between that love a woman can bear me
And that I owe Olivia .