Beggars Bush - From the Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher (Volume 2 of 10) by John Fletcher;Francis Beaumont
page 44 of 152 (28%)
page 44 of 152 (28%)
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_Gos._ In this circle, Love,
Thou art as safe, as in a Tower of Brass; Let such as do wrong, fear. _Van._ I, that's good, Let _Wolfort_ look to that. _Gos._ Sir, here she stands, Your Niece, and my beloved. One of these titles She must apply to; if unto the last, Not all the anger can be sent unto her, In frown, or voyce, or other art, shall force her, Had _Hercules_ a hand in't: Come, my Joy, Say thou art mine, aloud Love, and profess it. _Van._ Doe: and I drink to it. _Gos._ Prethee say so, Love. _Ger._ 'Twould take away the honour from my blushes: Do not you play the tyrant, sweet: they speak it. _Hem._ I thank you niece. _Gos._ Sir, thank her for your life, And fetch your sword within. _Hem._ You insult too much With your good fortune, Sir. [_Exeunt_ Gos. _and_ Ger. |
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