_Len_. The like is doomde to faire _Terentia_.
How say you both, are yee content?
_Teren_. My thoughts are plung'd in admiration.
_Tul_. But can your honour burie such a wrong?
_Len_. I can, I can; heere, _Tulley_, take _Terentia_,
Live many happie yeares in faithfull love.
This is no more then friendships lawes allow;
Thinke me thy self, another _Cicero_.
_Flav_. Twere better, my Lord, you did perswade her to think you another
_Cicero_, so you might claim some interest in her now and then.
_Lent_. That I would claim with you, faire Ladie;
Hark in your eare, nay, I must conclude with you.
_Flau_. Y'oule not bite, my Lord?
_Len_. No, of my faith, my Lady.
_Tere_. Thus far, my love, our hopes have good successe;
One storme more past, my griefes were much the less.
_Tul_. Friendship itself hath beene more prodigal
Then a bolde face could begge upon a friend.
_Lent_. Why, then theres a bargaine.
_Flav_. Strike hands upon the same, I am yours to commaund.
Ile love with ye, ile lie with ye, ile love with all my heart,
With all my strength, with all my power and virtue:
Seald and delivered in the presence of us--
_Lent_.
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