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- # The Play of
At that, would make me glad?
King. Yea Miftris, are you so peremptorie?
I am glad on't with all my heart,
Ile tame you; Ile bring you in subjection.
Will you not, hauling my consent,
Beflow your loue and your affections,
Vpon a Stranger? who for ought I know,
May be (nor can I thinke the contrary)
As great in blood as I my selfe:
Therefore, heare you Miftris, either frame
Your will to mine: and you sir, heare you;
Either be rul'd by mee, or Ile make you,
Man and wife: nay come, your hands,
And lippes must seale it too: and being ioynd,
Ile thus your hopes destroy, and for further grief:
God giue you ioy; what are you both pleased?
The. Yes, if you lone me sir?
Peri. Even as my life, my blood that softers it.
King. What are you both agreed?
Ambo. Yes, if't please your Maiestie.
King. It pleaseth me so well, that I will see you wed,
And then with what hafe you can, get you to bed. Examiner.
---
# Enter Gower.
Now sleepe yflacked hath the rout,
No din but snores about the house,
Made louder by the orefed breast,
Of this most pompous maryage Feast:
The Catte with eyne of burning cole,
Now couches from the Mousse hole;
And Cricket sing at the Quens mouth,
Are the blyther for their drouth:
Hymena hath brought the Bride to bed,
Whereby the losse of maydenhead,
A Babe is moulded: be attent.
And
II. v. 72—III. I—II
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