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Miscellanies

By John Armstrong ... In Two Volumes

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SCENE VII.
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SCENE VII.

CLAUDIO.
What a fool was I
Not to have laid this prating knave asleep,
This tell-tale coward, when I safely might?
But that's too late.—What's next?—I'll meet my foe.—
This challenge happens well. For if he drops,
I fly for that; no other crime supposed
To startle me. 'Tis something, plausibly
To shun the fire-edge of a nation's vengeance.
And to gain time gives art and fortune room
To work such happy wonders, that despair
Should never seize the wise.—But should I fall
By this impetuous boy.—Yet better so
Than give the curious mob a holiday
To see my head jump off.—But then he comes

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A conqueror to possess my bridal bed;
And meet with mutual ardour virgin charms
That fruitlesly were mine.—That's worse than death!
It must not be. Against a deadly foe
All arts are justified. Thou dy'st, ALPHONSO.
Prepare to meet a sterner bride. I come:
Please Heaven thou shalt not triumph in my doom.