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Jackson, Helen Hunt, 1830-1885

"A Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 4"


_Tul_. Then it seemes you graunt him no favour.
_Flav_. Faith, I dare not venture on him, for feare he should be rotten;
give me nature, not arte.
_Tere_. Here comes Lord _Lentulus_.
_Tul_. Swift danger, now ride poaste through this passage.
_Enter_[289] _Lentulus_.
Health to your honour.
_Len_. And happines to you.
_Tul_. In[290] heaven, deere Lord, but--
_Lent_. Tush, tush, on earth; come, come, I know your suite, tis
graunted sure, what ere it be.
_Tul_. My sute craves death, for treason to my friend.
_Teren_. The Traitor lives while I have breath to spend,
Then let me die to satisfie your will.
_Lent_. Neither, yfaith, kneele not, rise, rise, I pray;
You both confesse you have offended me?
_Both_. We doe, we have.
_Lent_. Then for this offence, be this your doome:
_Tulley_ must die, but not till fates decree
To cut your vital threed, or _Terentia_
Finde in her heart to be your Deathes-man.
_Flav_. Faith the Fates may doe as they may, but _Terentia_ will never
finde in her heart to kill him, sheele first burie him quick.


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