The Poetaster by Ben Jonson
page 107 of 324 (33%)
page 107 of 324 (33%)
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[Enter GALLUS and TIBULLUS.
Gal. Come, where be these ladies? By your leave, bright stars, this gentleman and I are come to man you to court; where your late kind entertainment is now to be requited with a heavenly banquet. Cyth. A heavenly banquet; Gallus! Gal. No less, my dear Cytheris. Tib. That were not strange, lady, if the epithet were only given for the company invited thither; your self, and this fair gentle-woman. Chloe. Are we invited to court, sir? Tib. You are, lady, by the great princess Julia; who longs to greet you with any favours that may worthily make you an often courtier. Chloe. In sincerity, I thank her, sir. You have a coach, have you not? Tib. The princess hath sent her own, lady. Chloe. O Venus! that's well: I do long to ride in a coach most vehemently. Cyth. But, sweet Gallus, pray you resolve me why you give that heavenly praise to this earthly banquet? Gal. Because, Cytheris, it must be celebrated by the heavenly |
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