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Jackson, Helen Hunt, 1830-1885

"A Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 4"


_Con_. Withdraw, good _Julia_.
[_Exit Julia_.
_Euph_. Pray, what is it, love?
_Con_. Tis love indeed to thee, but to my heart
Every loose sentence is a killing dart.
I brought this _Gyges_[175] to my hearts delight
And he hath drown'd his senses with the sight.
Except thy selfe, all things to him were free:
_Otho_, thou hast done me more then injurie;
Well maist thou fixe thy eye upon the earth,
This action sith[176] breedes a prodigious birth:
It is so monstrous, and against all kinde,
That the lights splendor would confound thy minde.
_Otho_. I have offended, prethee pardon me.
_Con_. What cause did move thee?
_Otho_. Her all conquering sight.
_Con_. Couldst thou usurpe upon my well known right?
_Otho_. Thinke, I am flesh and blood, and she is faire.
_Con_. Thinke how I love thee.
_Otho_. There proceeds my care.
_Con_. Our amitie hath bin of ancient dayes,
During which time wrong'd I thee any wayes?
_Otho_. Never.
_Con_. But rather I have done thee good.
_Otho_. I grant you have, O rather shed my blood
Then number the kind deedes betweene us past.


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