Thy aide, deere _Tulley_,
Be thou an Orratour for _Lentulus_,
My tongue stands tun[e]d to a harsher method;
Breath in her eares, those Organs of receite,
A quintessence distild of honny words,
And charme with a beguiling lullabye
Her free consent to thine and my request:
Which done, thats done which is my sole delight,
Which done, thats done that I can never quite.
_Tull_. All which to me are problematique mines,
Obscurde inigmaes, and to my studies
Incognite Language; yet, if my powers
Have power to cloath my tongue in love,
Ile be a Lover and in love so pleade
As if that _Tully_ loved _Terentia_.
_Lent_. Thanks, sweete _Cicero_;
This day we dine with olde _Flaminius_,
The forward Father of my Aukeward love.
His willing minde doth strive to make the peace
Betwixt our discord thoughts; his free consent
Is given to _Lentulus_; there, _Tulley_, take on holde,
And, when a Sunne of thy intent shines fayre,
Onset loves fort with polliticke assaults
And conquer; conquest in obtaining that
Where victors are repulsed. But see! our talke
Hath over-tane our way; see, olde _Flaminius_
Comes to welcome us.
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