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| GLOSTER.: |
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| Ten is the hour that was appointed me |
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| To watch the coming of my punish'd duchess. |
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| Uneath may she endure the flinty streets, |
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| To tread them with her tender-feeling feet.— |
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| Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook |
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| The abject people gazing on thy face |
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| With envious looks, laughing at thy shame, |
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| That erst did follow thy proud chariot-wheels |
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| When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets.— |
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| But, soft! I think she comes; and I'll prepare |
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| My tear-stain'd eyes to see her miseries. |
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| DUCHESS.: |
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| Come you, my lord, to see my open shame? |
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| Now thou dost penance too. Look how they gaze! |
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| See how the giddy multitude do point, |
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| And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee! |
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| Ah, Gloster, hide thee from their hateful looks, |
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| And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame, |
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| And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine! |
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| DUCHESS.: |
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| Ah, Gloster, teach me to forget myself! |
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| For whilst I think I am thy married wife, |
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| And thou a prince, protector of this land, |
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| Methinks I should not thus be led along, |
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| Mail'd up in shame, with papers on my back, |
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| And follow'd with a rabble that rejoice |
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| To see my tears and hear my deep-fet groans. |
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| The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet, |
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| And when I start, the envious people laugh |
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| And bid me be advised how I tread. |
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| Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke? |
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| Trow'st thou that e'er I'll look upon the world, |
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| Or count them happy that enjoy the sun? |
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| No; dark shall be my light and night my day; |
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| To think upon my pomp shall be my hell. |
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| Sometimes I'll say, I am Duke Humphrey's wife, |
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| And he a prince and ruler of the land; |
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| Yet so he rul'd and such a prince he was |
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| As he stood by whilst I, his forlorn duchess, |
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| Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock |
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| To every idle rascal follower. |
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| But be thou mild and blush not at my shame, |
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| Nor stir at nothing till the axe of death |
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| Hang over thee, as, sure, it shortly will; |
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| For Suffolk, he that can do all in all |
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| With her that hateth thee and hates us all, |
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| And York, and impious Beaufort, that false priest, |
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| Have all lim'd bushes to betray thy wings, |
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| And, fly thou how thou canst, they'll tangle thee; |
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| But fear not thou until thy foot be snar'd, |
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| Nor never seek prevention of thy foes. |
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| GLOSTER.: |
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| Ah, Nell, forbear! thou aimest all awry. |
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| I must offend before I be attainted; |
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| And had I twenty times so many foes, |
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| And each of them had twenty times their power, |
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| All these could not procure me any scath |
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| So long as I am loyal, true, and crimeless. |
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| Wouldst have me rescue thee from this reproach? |
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| Why, yet thy scandal were not wip'd away, |
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| But I in danger for the breach of law. |
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| Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell. |
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| I pray thee, sort thy heart to patience; |
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| These few days' wonder will be quickly worn. |
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| DUCHESS.: |
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| Art thou gone too? all comfort go with thee! |
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| For none abides with me; my joy is death, |
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| Death, at whose name I oft have been afeard, |
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| Because I wish'd this world's eternity.— |
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| Stanley, I prithee, go, and take me hence; |
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| I care not whither, for I beg no favour, |
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| Only convey me where thou art commanded. |
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