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['Tis but a frown, I prithee let me die.]
Tis but a frown I prethee let me dyeTis but a frown I prethee let me dye, one bended brow conclud's my Tragedy: For all my love I aske but this of thee, thou wilt not be too long a killing me; for if thou lov'st not, what availes thy smiles which only warms a bowl of snow, the whilst it receiv'd comfort from thine eyes, that selfe same comfort melts away and dies? so in the end thy frowns and smiles are one, and differ but in execution.
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