The Floating Island | ||
Scena III.
Enter Malevolo.Desp.
—Now Malevolo.
To hate was still my hony. But this gall
Of being hated totally of all,
I cannot bear: for now I cannot hurt,
Having no Credit. Give me from thy store
A dram of Poyson. I have been thy friend,
Let it be strong.
Desp.
First shake hands you must
With all the Passions, or at least make shew
Of formal reconcilement: stay a while,
My Guests and Cheer are coming.—
The Floating Island | ||